


Bark at the Moon

by MahTohSka



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989)
Genre: F/M, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 04:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahTohSka/pseuds/MahTohSka
Summary: While out on a call concerning werewolves, one of the Ghostbusters gets bit. What can be done to save the man from the beast?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This the longest fic I've written, I wanted it to be thirty pages or so but ... it turned out to 76 pages. I want to say this work was inspired by a piece written by WayWardWonderer entitled 'Halloween Tale', I recommend you check it out! I'll be posting chapters when I can. For now, enjoy!

Rotterdam, New York

Several calls reporting a large pack of ghostly hounds roaming the woods in Plotter Kill Preserve, only for things to escalate when five people have gone missing. Ecto-1 sped up county roads up to the town of 30,000 residents, relief spread across every face that the Ghostbusters laid eyes on. The hearse parked in front of the City Hall, the intrepid four man team marched up the steps to hear cheers from citizens. 

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” the mayor shook their hands subsequently sitting at his desk. “I keep getting calls from the families of those missing and we’re doing everything we can, search parties and bloodhounds. Whatever those things are, I want you guys to take care of them. Leave the missing people to me. I don’t want to be dealing with too many things at once.”

“We’ll give you a special ten percent special discount,” Dr. Peter Venkman quipped as he sat across from the mayor. “Adoption special, each pooch gets to have a home.”

“If only they weren’t demonic beasts howling and terrorizing my citizens,” the mayor stood up and leaned on his desk. “I didn’t believe it at first, it started out with just one for cyrin’ out loud then it just … grew. Five, then twenty, now it sounds like a thousand of ‘em during the full moon.”

“Tonight is our only chance until the next full moon cycle to capture them,” Dr. Egon Spengler spoke up, eyes fixed on the readings from the PKE meter. 

“What are the chances if they turn out to be werewolves, actual werewolves?” Dr. Ray Stantz couldn’t help but grin. “Wouldn’t that be great!” 

“Then I hope we got silver bullets stashed somewhere in the car,” Winston Zeddemore crossed his arms. “And lots of them.”

“I’d like to collect samples if we are fortunate enough to come across a solid corporeal entity matching the description,” Spengler mentioned. 

“Like I said, do whatever, just get rid of them!” the mayor pleaded. 

“Easy, chief, we’ll take care of ‘em,” Peter put a hand up, rising. “Right now, I need a hot shower and some coffee. Let’s go, boys.”

 

As soon as the sun set, the Ghostbusters set out towards Plotter Kill Preserve; the last day of the full moon, and it was shining bright in the darkened void of the sky once it was completely night. Howls in the distance kept the guys on their toes, the spectral visors were down to detect thermal images of their ghostly prey. 

“You ever get the feeling we’re being watched?” Winston asked, checking his surroundings with almost every step he took. He had split up with Spengler, while Peter and Ray took off in a different direction. 

“Common association with dark forests at this time of night,” Egon noted, eyes scanning the brush and darting back to the PKE meter. There were readings, alright, fluctuating between low to medium. The manifestations were here, however they seemed to be on the move. Spengler saw a trail up ahead leading to the falls. “Let’s check this way.”

Unbeknownst to both, a darkened figure kept low to the ground, watching intently with a green eye. The canine bodied being silently stalked the pair of men, careful not to draw attention. Winston and Egon kept walking towards the falls, the soft rumble of water increasing the closer they drew. The shadow covered beast licked its mouth, lightly panting; it was time to strike.

“Nah, man, I mean, it’s the woods, I know we’re probably being watched by a mountain lion, I just got this itch, Egon,” Winston elaborated, thrower primed to fire. 

“Cougars haven’t been spotted in this area for years, however there may have been one sighting in the past year,” Spengler corrected him. The wands of the meter rose halfway and staying, the lights and blips going off. “We have incoming.” He placed the meter back in its sling, Spengler reached for his thrower. 

The beast emerged from the direction the two Ghostbusters had their wands drawn, baring its teeth in a nasty snarl; as it stood on its hind legs, Spengler estimated it was eight feet tall, giving it a five foot height or thereabouts on all fours. The wolf was battle scarred in appearance, though something was amiss here with this entity.

“Egon, that’s not a ghost,” Winston flatly stated. “That’s an honest to god werewolf. What do we do?” 

“To be honest, I’m a little terrified beyond rational thought,” Spengler admitted, becoming amazed at the height and structure of the werewolf. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, man. Should I radio Pete and Ray?” 

“That would be wise.” The werewolf still snarled, its one good eye locked on the two; it made a lunge forward, Winston and Egon were separated as they scattered. Spengler was closer to edge of the cliff, should he run left or right the beast would tackle him either way. The beast lowly growled, seeing it had prey where it wanted; when he saw the werewolf get on all fours and stalk him, Egon was being mindful of the cliff. 

“Ray, Pete, come in, this is Winston. We got a situation. Those aren’t ghosts, they’re actual werewolves,” Winston informed them.

_“For real?! That’s great!”_ came Ray’s voice.

“Only problem is, how do we deal with something like this that isn’t a ghost?” he asked the engineer. 

_“Well, that … is a problem,”_ Ray spoke lowly. _“I guess for now spook ‘em off into the woods and reconvene to come up with a plan.”_

Winston was now seeing the wolf getting dangerously close to Egon. “Hurry over. Egon’s gonna be this wolf’s dinner. I’ll try to hold him off.” A rustling sound came over to his right, another werewolf leaped out. Winston set his thrower to stun, giving the wolf a few zaps. 

Spengler stared the wolf down, trying to calm his heavy breathing; he saw an opportunity to dash to the werewolf’s right. Egon made a run for it, his foot getting caught on an exposed tree root and crash landed onto the earth. He felt a fair of fangs break through the boot’s leather and into his flesh and bone; Egon twisted himself to stun the werewolf off him. The beast snarled, letting go of Spengler after getting hit a few times. Winston was finishing off stunning the wolf that had ambushed him; both beasts scampered off into the woods yelping. 

Spengler panted, wincing from the pain in his ankle and the stinging from the bite in the same area. Apart from the bite, he rolled his ankle in the process of escaping the cliffside. Winston rushed over to his comrade’s side, assessing the situation.

“Man, you may have the worst luck of us all,” Winston mumbled, reaching for the radio. “Hey guys, Spengler rolled his ankle. Meet us at the trail head.”

_“Copy that. We didn’t have anything on our end, what did it look like?”_ Ray asked with his usual enthusiasm. 

“We’ll tell you when we get back,” Winston helped Egon to his feet. 

 

“Man, actual werewolves! This is great!” Ray enthusiastically grinned. “Maybe we can capture one and study it further, it could be a great addition to our cryptozoology.” 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great, Ray, you do that,” Peter strolled over to the back of the hearse where Winston was occupied carefully getting Spengler’s boot off. “Accident prone much, Spengs?”

“Speak for yourself. I’m not getting possessed each time there’s a call,” Egon retorted. He feared bite marks would be found, however amazed that the wounds were completely healed save for small circular bruises where the wolf bit down. Immediate tissue regeneration. Fascinating.

“Nah, that’s more Ray’s thing,” Peter smirked towards Stantz.

“Oh, man, he must’ve tried to get a bite out of you,” Winston examined the holes in the boot’s leather. “Maybe we oughtta get boots with thick layers if this ever happens again.” He grabbed for the athletic wrap, proceeding to cover Spengler’s ankle with it.

“You feeling alright, Spengsy?” Ray propped an arm on the opened door. 

“A little shaken, but I’ll survive,” Egon told him, the throbbing from the ankle was the only pain he felt. The bite effects were not producing any results, no headache followed by excruciating agony and transformation; perhaps it’s incubating and will become effective come the next full moon cycle. “I do think we should devise a humane way of handling werewolves.”

“Unless we know they’re Christian names, find a witch, have a silver or metal object handy, it’s wolfsbane or silver bullet,” Ray brought up. “Though there was the bathing in waters blessed by King Lycaon that could turn and rid you of being a werewolf. In all honesty, there’s no safe way of curing a werewolf. Wolfsbane may look safe but it’s poisonous to humans.”

“I can create a synthetic type without the potency leading to death after the lycan gene has been eradicated,” Egon piped up, setting his ankle down once Winston had finished up. He nimbly put the boot back on, keeping it loose. 

“Break out your little chemistry set then, Egon, and let’s toast ‘em while we got tonight,” Peter mumbled, letting out a yawn. 

“Creating a synthetic wolfsbane would take weeks,” Egon got up on his feet, careful not to put weight on his right ankle. “I would rather not leave until they are taken care of, but we don’t have a choice. We must go back to the firehouse and make the solution. A dart injection or vaporizer would suffice in distributing it.”

“So, like bear mace?” Peter rubbed his eye. 

“Simply put, yes,” Spengler replied. He could suddenly smell the morning dew on the grass to its very molecule, his hearing was heightened to notice an acute rustling in the brush ten feet away; he took mental notes of his apparent heightened senses. He wasn’t quite sure when to inform them he was bitten. 

This was no frat prank. This was real.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Egon experiences his first transformation while out on a call at the Bronx Zoo. And he stops stonewalling Janine. Finally.

Time spent at the firehouse while his ankle healed was no problem for Spengler. The sooner the synthetic wolfsbane was finished, the better. He weighed pros and cons of using it on himself once a decent batch was made; if they were to study werewolves further for the tome he and Ray where cumulating information for, they would need a willing participant. Chances of finding one willingly to do so would be drastically slim. Egon sighed, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. He would have to be the one. Spengler did want to study himself after all. 

His heightened sense of smell picked up a scent belonging to a familiar person – Janine. She was just arriving for work, the chamomile tea in her to-go cup greeted his olfactory senses; a warm rush flowed in his veins, Egon made mental notes as more of her scent flooded his nostrils. It was starting to drive him mad. The rational thoughts of his human side were being pushed out by the new primal thoughts of the wolf – mate. Spengler had a hold of his nerves, calming the rising lust. He knows Janine makes advances on him, then trying to make him jealous by going out with men she found similar features to him only for them to be dumped two weeks later and the cycle continues. He has the flowcharts to prove it.

Perhaps it was time to stop stonewalling and accept it. Egon let out a shaky breath, pushing himself off the worktable and ventured downstairs to the main floor. Her scent was intoxicating, Spengler tried to hold his breath to not be floored by it the closer he got to her. He paced himself, taking breaths when he can before it was proving useless; he let it bombard him like a blow to the chest. A soft rumble came from his chest, causing Janine to turn around in her chair. 

“Oh, Egon, I thought that was you,” Janine faintly jumped from the sudden noise behind her. “How’s your ankle?”

“Er, better, thank you,” he stumbled over the words. As she went back to the files on the desk, Spengler timidly strolled over to the desk. “Janine, may I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything,” she kept her eyes on the papers. 

“Would you … like to get dinner sometime?” he asked in a calm voice, he was leaning down on the desk mostly to help balance himself from the overwhelming scent. 

Janine froze in her seat, eyes gradually ungluing themselves from the files and gazing up at his stare. She was surprised that he would ask her out, Janine just started seeing a literature professor; was this really happening? Did he finally come around? Finally. Janine gave Egon a warm grin. 

“I would love to, Egon,” she reached forward, putting her hand on top of his. “What do you have in mind?”

“Thai?”

“I don’t think I’ve had Thai before. I’m up for it. How about Thursday at eight.”

“I … that would be suitable.”

“Great.” Janine gave a wink. “You got yourself a date, mister.” She removed her hand and sat back in her original position.

“I would prefer if this would remain unknown to the others,” Egon lowly said to her. “Perhaps … at a later time if … if this progresses after the fifth date, then we’ll tell them.” 

“Five dates?” she propped up her chin, looking over the tops of her glasses, that soft grin came back on her lips. “Dr. Spengler, you spoil me.”

Egon couldn’t help but blush.

 

“Is it almost ready?” Ray randomly asked Egon as the guys traveled to the Bronx Zoo for a call of a Class Six.

“There are some minor details to fix, however it should be ready by then,” Spengler replied, rubbing his forehead due to a headache coming on. 

“I still think we should capture one though, for studying,” Stantz mentioned, careening Ecto-1 around a corner.

“If we do, it better be house broke,” Peter quipped from the backseat. “I’m not cleaning up after it.”

“Perhaps,” Egon appeared to agree with Ray, “Or …” The headache was splitting his mind, slightly wincing. 

“Egon, you okay?” Ray glanced over at him, returning his eyes to the road. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Minor headache,” he flatly reported. It was the first night of the full moon, barely above the skyscrapers of New York; Spengler felt discomfort rising over his body, pushing the pain away by thought was not helping much. 

The hearse screamed to a halt outside the zoo’s entrance; the beige colored suited Ghostbusters grabbed their packs and made their way inside. A shapeshifting Class Six had been terrorizing staff and some of the animals, controlling a handful even; it was a bear, then an overly large prairie dog, stopping its form to that of a mountain goat.

Ray and Egon had reached the area by the African wild dogs exhibit, hearing snarls behind them. A herd of ten wild dogs stood before them, eyes glowing a vibrant green; Ray gulped hard as he turned around to see the drool drip from their maws. Spengler saw the wands of the PKE meter reach up, the lights flickering like a pinball machine. 

“It’s here, Ray,” Spengler muttered. He gradually turned around, seeing the pack of wild dogs. Above them was the monstrous mountain goat shaped specter. Its form spiraled into a haze before appearing as a timber wolf. The Class Six locked its eyes on Egon, a growl rising from it. Two wild dogs took a few steps forward, snarling with open and drooling mouths; their bodies were modified by the Class Six’s control, they had a five foot height on all fours, their muscle mass matching their size.

Spengler was fighting against the growing pains – the beast had to come out. He could feel it bash at the doors of his mind, clawing its way to the surface, a mild pain spread across his body until it was unbearable. Controlling the oncoming change by his thoughts was futile. He took a step forward, the wolf inside him challenging the wild dogs. 

Ray was temporarily frozen, breaking his stare to see Egon approaching the pack of dogs; audibly whispering Egon’s name wasn’t doing anything, Ray slowly reached for his radio.

“Winston? Venkman? We have visual on the Class Six …” his eyes widened, reaching to grab Egon as he saw the Ghostbuster remove his pack before the wolf shaped specter shifted into a goat and rammed Ray to the ground. “Wild dogs exhibit! Quick!”

_“We’ll be right over, we’re near the bears,”_ Winston was heard. 

Ray heard a pained cry from Spengler, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes laid on Egon changing. “Guys … we … may have a problem,” he called on the radio.

It was agonizing, he crumpled to the ground; Egon stifled a scream, sounding a deep growl. Fur grew out of every pore, legs bent and shifted, and a tail sprouted from his tailbone at an excruciating pace. Claws formed from his fingernails and teeth sharpened to points, a terrifying roar escaped his lips, a muzzle formed as his ears changed position. His body tore out of his jumpsuit, growing in size; the transformation finalized with a bone chilling howl from the seven foot tall werewolf. 

Peter and Winston arrived just in time to see the wolf stand on its powerful legs and howl; Ray scrambled to his feet, joining them feet away from the display. The werewolf snarled down at the wild dogs, becoming aggressive in his body language.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Peter groaned out, making the connections. “This better not be another college prank.”

“It’s not, Pete,” Winston firmly spoke, grip tight on his thrower. “This is for real. Egon must’ve gotten bit back up in Rotterdam.”

“This … this is incredible!” Ray exclaimed, catching the attention of the muscled up wild dogs. The Class Six idly sat and watched, wanting the dogs to take care of the humans. 

Though the bipedal wolf was making itself to be a useful tool; the black werewolf bristled his fur, snapping his jaws at the wild dogs, getting on all fours just before the Class Six missed its mark. It had wanted the wolf for its own gains, however becoming easily frustrated and ran off.

The first dog took charge towards the Ghostbusters, the werewolf grabbed the dog’s scruff and tossed it away. One leaped and buried its teeth in Egon’s left shoulder. The black colored beast growled, more sets of teeth buried themselves in him. 

“We better trap that Class Six pronto,” Winston took off as soon as he found the shapeshifting specter. He found it back over by the bear exhibit, he fired upon the ghost. “Could really use some help over here!”

“But … Spengler …” Ray started, seeing Egon battle the pack of wild dogs, wanting to help his friend out before being pulled by Peter. 

“He can handle it, Ray, c’mon,” Peter told him, running back over to Winston. Ray reluctantly followed suit, firing on the ghastly form of a cougar. The specter bucked in its restraint before they finally got it secured. 

“Ray, get the trap,” Winston called out. “RAY!”

Stantz took a momentary glance over to where Spengler looked to be overwhelmed by wild dogs. A firm shout from Winston broke him out of it. Ray tossed the trap over and pressed down, the Class Six roaring out as it was sucked in. The traps doors closed, smoking and gave a little kick. 

An exhausted werewolf was in the middle of a ring surrounded by the massive wild dogs; as soon as the ghost was captured, they shrunk down to their normal size, the dogs saw the larger wolf growling and snarling. They gave whines and scampered away back to their enclosure. Spengler huffed, gradually rising to his feet on his digitigrade legs. 

“Egon?” He turned around to see his comrades with a smoking trap. Peter and Winston casually hid their fear with stoic stares while Ray couldn’t help but show his excitement at the discovery that the brain of the Ghostbusters turned into a werewolf. Ray was the first to approach, eyes darting up and down the beast’s form with wild curiosity. 

Egon gave out a soft whine, coming down on all fours and meeting Ray in the middle. The wolf sniffed the man in the jumpsuit, registering his scent as friend. Stantz absentmindedly rubbed the area between the werewolf’s ears on top of his head; the wolf’s tail gradually wagged from the stimuli. Egon looked back to see the appendage move back and forth before staring back at Ray. 

“Aw, buddy, it’s okay,” Ray scratched that area again. “You don’t need to be ashamed you hid this from us. Come to think of it, we do need a test subject for studying …”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Winston came forward with the trap. “I wouldn’t say that normally but think about it, Ray. He could probably turn on us, and quick. He’s a wild animal.”

There was a groan from the werewolf, taking a few steps towards Winston, sitting like a dog. If only Egon could talk. Misunderstandings would be smoothed out. 

“Egon’s right, we’ll talk about this in the morning,” Peter patted Winston’s shoulder. “Let’s get back, put the spook in the containment unit, and wait it out.”

Egon huffed and groaned, agreeing with Peter. Venkman gave a gesture to prove he was right. “See?”

“I’ll drop you guys off,” Ray started to back track to where Egon dropped his pack. “I’ll take Egon to Central Park, let him run around.”

“And I bet you would love that, wouldn’t you,” Peter rubbed the sides of Egon’s face. 

Spengler seemed displeased with Peter’s need to act like he was a normal dog. Venkman continued with the cutesy voice saying, ‘who’s a good boy’ while rubbing and scratching. Winston tried to hide his grin as he saw Egon fight against Peter’s scratching but was failing, the wolf’s tail was swishing across the ground. Spengler swiped Peter’s hands away with an arm, giving a soft annoyed growl and rose to his feet.

“Easy, big guy,” Peter backed away with his hands in front. Once Ray rejoined the group, they journeyed back to the firehouse. Spengler took up room on the floor, laying low and dozed off once Peter and Winston were dropped off.

Parking the hearse outside the west Central Park entrance he looked in the rearview mirror to see Egon napping on the floor of Ecto. Ray’s lips curled into a small smile; the peaceful sleeping wolf soon opened its eyes and let out a yawn. The human and the werewolf locked eyes, Ray wondered what Egon was thinking or wanting to say, those gold eyes piercing him. 

“C’mon,” he got out of the driver’s seat and opened the back door. “Even a werewolf like you has got to have energy to wear off.”

Egon hopped out of the hearse, giving groans and faint whimpers as if trying to say something. Eventually he trotted off on all fours into the park, Ray following close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Peter's the type to put on a cutesy voice and say 'who's a good boy?' just to tease the werewolf the size of a grizzly bear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the antagonist - Lars Gustavson. Werewolf. Harbors a symbiotic demon vampire parasite. Talks like Jerry Lundegaard from the movie 'Fargo'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose Timothy Omundson as he appears in 'Supernatural' as the face/voice claim for Lars. Perfect look.

Egon woke the next morning surprisingly refreshed; he stretched out and reached for his glasses. His gaze saw three faces peering down at him, meeting the wary glance of Winston, an enthusiastic grin from Ray and feigned interest from Peter. 

“I’m well aware I transformed last night,” Egon began, sitting up in bed. “Any reservations you have on this matter can be talked over and come to an understanding. Since Ray and I would like to study werewolves for further handling, I willingly volunteer myself.”

“You won’t turn on us?” Winston perked up an eyebrow. 

“If I can maintain control like last night from now on, no, I won’t.” 

“Keyword is ‘if’, Winston,” Peter teased. 

“I was thinking a span of three months for studying, but we only get two or three days,” Ray mentioned. “This is going to be extensive research, it might not be three months.”

“Possibly five months,” Egon put a finger to his chin in thought. “Although, if further transformations would affect me drastically, we can prolong it to a year if it’s needed.” He paused, his eyebrow perked up in a fascinating thought. “The longer I remain a werewolf would I recognize friends in my other form …”

“You turn on us, and I’ll spray you with that wolfsbane mace,” Winston crossed his arms. “How is that coming along, by the way? The mayor is very adamant about getting that problem taken care of.” 

“Another week, and it’ll be finished,” Egon assured him. 

 

Three weeks had passed, the wolfsbane mace canisters were operational and ready for use. The Ghostbusters found themselves back in Rotterdam and the Plotter Kill Preserve. The timing had to be right, waiting for a full moon phase was not ideal but it had to be done. Winston, Ray, and Peter were equipped with their packs and mace canisters; Egon stayed behind in New York City, he wouldn’t want to be a liability and further endanger the plan. 

“Okay, so we toast half the pack and come back the next night,” Peter repeated what he understood.

“However many we can get in one night,” Ray corrected him. “Egon will come up tomorrow night if we need reinforcements. Is everyone ready?”

They trekked further into the woods, throwers primed to stun with the canisters close by their side. A group of six werewolves silently followed them, flanking the three Ghostbusters until giving an ambushed attack. Four wolves were downed by the canisters, changing at an agonizing pace back to human form – it worked!

The last two charged on them, being outnumbered three to two, the last of the canisters sprayed the remaining contents. 

“Successful testing!” Ray exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. A roar interrupted the triumphant occasion. 

The larger wolf Winston and Egon had run into weeks ago emerged from the shadows. He was battle scared, one milky white eye stared on in oblivion, a tear in one ear; the werewolf snarled loudly and let out a bark, growling deeply. 

“He’s probably the alpha,” Winston muttered to the guys. “He’s not happy we shrunk his pack a bit.”

“Ya think,” Peter whispered, addressing the wolf. “Hey! Wolfie! We got more where that came from! You best watch your ass! We’ll be back!”

“Hey, guys? You know those five missing people the mayor talked about?” Ray brought up. 

“Not now, Ray,” Peter growled, his thrower ready to fire, eyes locked on the werewolf. “You think you can ambush us and turn one of our own? What’s your endgame, huh? You don’t seem the type of guy to let a pack member willy-nilly go about outside the territory, huh. Just how many more are you gonna turn?” 

The werewolf took a teasing lunge forward, Peter gave the beast a little zap from his pack; the wolf snarled, feeling the sting. He stood down, taking a step back; perhaps another time when the one he bit returns. Then this venture would prove more worthy of his time. The wolf ceased its snarling, huffing out and licked his maw, turning around and went back into the brush.

“Guys, do they look familiar to you?” Ray called attention to the five downed people. “I think we found the mayor’s missing people.”

Winston and Peter joined Ray, realization on their faces that the werewolves they cured were the five townspeople that disappeared. The sixth one, however, didn’t look to be breathing; Winston caught eye of this and went to check, proceeding to do CPR. 

“Maybe it’s still potent …” Ray thought aloud watching the lifeless body not respond, his face dropping. 

“Ray, it’s not, look, the others are getting up,” Peter motioned to the five humans stirring. 

“What … happened?” a man in his early thirties asked, rubbing his head. 

“You were abducted, subsequently turned into a werewolf where you have resided here in the Reserve until we intervened and cured you,” Ray’s hopes were high and kept afloat while he helped the man up. “We’ve extracted the potency of wolfsbane for safer curing of this curse.”

“Th-thanks, man,” the man grinned, eyes drooping. “Man, I’m tired … and I ache all over.”

“Side effect, it should pass,” Ray lightly patted the man’s shoulder. 

“Winston, hey, maybe you should stop,” Peter muttered as he stepped towards him, looking over his shoulder. “The guy’s dead.”

Winston had been performing CPR for ten minutes and it wasn’t going anywhere. He stopped, heavily breathing; he saw how the five had responded well and were alive, looking back down at the lifeless body a thought occurred to him. 

“Maybe this guy was born as a wolf,” he declared, getting cocked eyebrows from Ray and Peter. 

“It’s possible,” Stantz shrugged. “Certain lore suggests some werewolves are born as natural wolves and change into humans when needed to or at death. We should probably get a blood sample for Spengs.”

“You do that, Ray, I’ll handle our found people,” Peter nodded, not wanting to get stuck with being the Sample Boy all the time. 

 

“How many did you manage to cure?” Spengler asked the following morning as he poured a cup of coffee. 

“Only six, but they worked,” Ray informed him, waiting to get himself coffee. “I have a blood sample for you to look at. One of them most likely was born a natural wolf, he didn’t wake from getting hit. The only time a natural werewolf ever changes into a human form is if needed to blend in, or after they had died.” 

“Anything else?” The pot was placed back into the machine.

“Yeah, those five others? The missing people the mayor wanted to concentrate on looking for,” Ray’s mismatched eyes were beaming from that discovery. “So, our prime suspect is this big ol’ nasty lookin’ werewolf who lures people to that particular reserve and turns them to grow his pack, maybe overrun the town and the whole county!” He paused, grabbing the pot. “How was last night for you? Any problems?”

“No. Although I managed to win a few fights,” Ray saw a corner of Spengler’s lips curl up behind the mug as Egon drank. “Apart from that, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What’s it like? Being a wolf?” Stantz sipped his first cup. 

“Did I just here you won some fights?” Peter piped up as he came towards them. “Spengs, I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“Natural instincts, dominate or submit,” Egon muttered. 

“Thought you’d rather to be left alone,” Peter crossed his arms, soon smirking, thinking of the time the usually calm and collected man almost ripped Walter Peck a new hole after Peckerhead forced the containment unit to be shut down. “Unless provoked by assholes.” 

“I’m afraid my personality in my other form has taken on a dominating stance when approaching other werewolves.”

“There are werewolves here in the city?! That’s fascinating!” Ray exclaimed.

“I could smell approximately fifty other wolves in Central Park. There are sure to be more within the five boroughs.” A strong and pleasant scent came to his nose – Janine. They’re first date was a little awkward to begin with, but Spengler managed to calm down and enjoy the night. He even gave her a smile – albeit a small one. It ended on a very good note and they would go on their next date in two weeks. Ray and Peter saw the distant stare in Egon’s brown eyes, they heard Janine call from downstairs good morning to them; his gaze was feral, carnal urgings rising in his thoughts. Spengler snapped out of his trance, clearing his throat and deeply blushed out of embarrassment when he was caught staring. 

“We might need you tonight,” Ray set his mug down, crossing his arms. “Maybe for crowd control, get a concentrated group and spray them down.”

“I have darts set aside as well, I don’t want to get sprayed and our opportunity for research would go out the window,” Egon nodded. 

“Grenades and now dart guns,” Peter pulled a chair out from the table and sat. “What’s next, a proton bazooka?”

Egon’s brow perked up in intrigue. He hasn’t thought about that possibility. He’d have to draw up plans for it. 

“How many you of those darts did you make?” Ray picked his mug back up and drank. 

“An arsenal of one hundred, that should be an ample amount. There’s no telling how large of a pack we’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, well, Big Nasty didn’t like us taking six of his crew,” Peter ran a finger around his mug’s ring. “He backed off from us like we were nothing to him. I wanted to spray him so much he’d choke on the fumes.”

The bell clanged loudly in the hall, making Egon wince from the sensitivity in his ears, exchanging a small look with Ray before they came down the fire pole and geared up, Ecto-1 screaming out of the firehouse. 

It took them two hours just to catch two ghosts causing problems at the docks by Battery Park; each of them covered in slime ranging from not a lot to drenched like Peter was, exhausted from the running, the four Ghostbusters stumbled back to the hearse. 

“That should’ve been an easy job, there were two of ‘em, for Christ’s sake,” Winston grumbled, sitting down in the passenger side. 

“We gotta be paid extra for it,” Peter agreed, groaning from the back seat. 

Egon caught whiff of a vaguely familiar scent as he and Ray put the traps in the back, his gaze wandered around, turning around to see a haggardly looking man across the road; his one blue eye stared with intrigue, dark and somewhat greasy locks hung loose to his shoulders. His beard was almost gray except for the top lip area being brown. The one milky white eye bore into Egon’s stare. In human form, Spengler was able to recognize who it was. 

Ray heard a deep growl come from Egon, his brows knitting together. “What is it, Spengsy?” He straightened and looked over to where Spengler was staring at. The man was starting to move just as Ray turned. 

“It’s nothing, Ray, we need to get back.” 

Later that day, Janine heard the door open and close, her gaze finding a bearded and somewhat unkempt man making his way to the desk. She sat up, putting her magazine down, and pulled the bridge of her glasses down on her nose.

“Can I help you?” 

“Yes, I, uh, wish to speak with a … one of them,” the man did his best to form sentences and speak. “Sorry, I … I mostly spend my time alone and am not good with social interactions. I came here because I saw four men with patches that match the sign out front.” 

“Spends time alone? Terrible with social interactions? You’re not a long lost brother of someone I know, are you?” came Peter’s voice from behind the filing cabinets and Janine’s desk. His head came into view, Venkman casually made his way over to the bearded man. “What’s your problem?”

“Oh, no, uh, no problem, just I …” the man was tripping over his tongue. “I used to know one of your friends. The tall one. I can’t remember his name, see. I was involved in a very ugly crash that caused me to have retrograde amnesia, though some bits I do remember.”

“You poor thing,” Janine leaned forward showing sympathy for the man. “One moment.” She pressed the button the intercom box sitting next to the phone. “Dr. Spengler, you have a visitor.”

_“I’m a little busy at the moment, Janine,”_ came Egon’s voice. _“Ray is going over my measurements.”_

“Bet that’s not the only thing they’re doing,” Peter muttered under his breath.

_“Venkman, I heard that,”_ Egon lowly spoke. _“Can this visitor come back another time?”_

“Is that alright with you, sir?” Janine looked over to the man. 

“Well, I, uh, see, I can’t, see, I’m leaving soon, and I wanted to say hello to an old friend before I left,” his heavy Minnesotan accent stumbling over his words.

Egon didn’t need the com to hear the man, his acute hearing picked up what he wanted; he stood up from the stool, not bothering to put a shirt on over his beater as he calmly made his way down to the main floor. Panic faintly rose in him – it was the man he saw across the street at Battery Park. 

Spengler cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

The man looked to Janine, remembering the name she said and back to Egon. “Doctor … Spengler?” Getting a curt nod from the tall scientist, he extended a hand. “Lars Gustavson, we met years ago at a lecture. It was a private function at university. I was visiting from University of Minnesota, as a guest speaker.”

Playing along with the man’s spiel, Egon reluctantly shook Lars’ hand. “I believe we did, yes, how have you been?” Spengler guided him away from the little cluster at Janine’s desk; Winston, Peter and their secretary watched with intent stares while Egon and Lars made their way to the main doors. 

“What is it you really want,” Spengler dropped the act and had a threatening tone in his voice. 

“Just to say hi,” Lars had a grin under his bushy beard. “Not every day I get to be in this disgusting human form and see a new member of my pack away from where he should belong.”

Egon’s brows drew together. “Where I should belong? No werewolf has the ability to have a recently bitten victim swear unconditional fealty to it.”

“But I do,” Lars got dangerously close to Egon. “The first time you transformed you should have been in my territory, under my control. I have a little gift, see. I can plant the slightest suggestion into someone’s mind, no hypnosis or anything. Just a natural talent at being super manipulative. Normally when I call, even if an omega is miles away, like you are, they always come running back.”

Spengler cocked a brow, not having it with Lars’ words. “Yes, well, good luck with that.”

“Your mind is a tough fortress to break through, Dr. Spengler,” Lars dropped his voice. “You’re resilient. But I wonder if you are the same way during the full moon?”

“We’ll have to see tonight, won’t we,” Egon crossed his arms. 

Lars gave a nod, glancing over at the curious stares across the way. He put on his act again. “It was great seeing you, maybe you can come out to Minnesota and give a lecture!” They shook hands, grips tight like a vice. “Bye for now!”

Ray trotted down the stairs just as Lars left. “What’d I miss?”

“Some weird guy with social issues, and I don’t mean Egon,” Peter leaned against the cabinets. He watched Spengler come back over, trying to pick the man’s body language apart. Alas, being the supposed robot, it was hard to read Egon. “Who’s the yokel, Egon? Didn’t look like you knew each other.”

“No, we don’t,” came the flat reply. Spengler made a bee line for the stairs. “I have some research to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round one: Spengler vs Gustavson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ican'twriteactionthatwellpleasebekindiamsmallandhaveverylittlemoney)

He hunched over databases and Tobin’s Spirit Guide, looking for the name the man gave him. Finally, after hours of searching, he found the name. And what an interesting history Lars had. 

“Spengsy, we better get going if we want to make good timing,” Ray popped his head from the stairs. “Don’t want you changing when we’re halfway there.” 

“I’ll be right down.” He jotted notes down from articles, shoving them in the top pocket of his jumpsuit and joined the rest in Ecto-1. “According to my findings, Lars Gustavson was a Norwegian immigrant who moved to what is now St. Cloud, Minnesota at the height of the Dakota War. To the Santee Dakota, they borrowed a word from their Ojibwe neighbors and dubbed him a ‘Windigo’.

“Apparently, Gustavson was already cursed back in his home of Tromsø, being born a werewolf naturally. His entire village was turned into werewolves by his own doing, soon his naturally gifted ability to control a mob grew and five villages were placed in his territory. Finally, he was banished, and he emigrated here,” Egon continued. “After the conflict he made his way east, eventually making his permanent home in Rotterdam. Along the way he’s had massive packs, stretching from Minnesota to as far as Ohio.”

“Busy guy,” Peter quipped from the front seat.

“He also went under a pseudonym of Harry the Magnificent, showcasing his abilities of hypnosis, though short lived it created long term effects on those he supposedly put under. However, he is harboring a vampiric parasite called Somna, using his new found aptitudes to garner helpless victims under his control,” Egon skimmed his notes. “More than half of his pack were culled, he faked his own death to avoid being killed. He laid low until recently his activities were brought to our attention.”

“Sounds like a grade-A nut,” Winston mumbled, listening intently.

“Indeed,” Egon agreed. “I suggest extreme caution when approaching him. Use the darts sparingly. One hit to each werewolf should effectively reverse their genetic makeup back to human.” He pulled out a dart pistol, finishing any last minute details while they drove. “Please try not to shoot me while we’re in the field.”

They finally arrived back at the reserve; the sun was gone, its light waning as the moon was barely visible in the sky. Spengler felt the oncoming discomfort, growing each passing second as the other three Ghostbusters geared up. The sky above soon became dark, stars shining; the four ‘Busters trekked a mile in before Egon stopped. He didn’t want to have to go back to New York in his birthday suit, he removed his boots and jumpsuit. Spengler lastly took his glasses off, neatly folding them and placed them on top of his clothing along with his undergarments. 

Ray, Peter, and Winston looked on with faintly pained expressions as their comrade couldn’t hold it in any longer and changed to a werewolf the size of a grizzly bear. Egon did his best to stifle cries of pain while it wracked his body from the extreme shifting of muscle and bone; it finally came out in a deep howl, sending chills down the three humans’ spines. The black wolf ceased its howl, gold eyes finding the men staring with hidden terror – well two of them were, one couldn’t help but grin.

The werewolf took one cautious step towards them, sniffing the air; another timid paw-like hand moved forward, more scent registering. They held their breath while Egon was adjusting, sighing out in relief when they saw the tail wag back and forth and the werewolf now got close to them. Egon stood to his full seven foot height, head snapping to attention and ears forward towards a sound – a doe had come out from the woods on the path ahead, nibbling on grass. 

“Should we let him?” Peter whispered to Ray, nodding his head towards the deer. 

“I don’t know. He’s gotta recover that energy somehow …” when they turned their attention back to Egon, the wolf had gone. A rustle in the bushes ahead called their awareness to spot a dark figure rush the doe and sinking its teeth into the deer’s neck. If Spengler moved that quietly and hunted with that accuracy – it almost frightened all of them what their friend was capable of doing. 

They approached the dining wolf, soon greeted with snarls from the beast. He stood defensively over his kill, lips peeled back; each man took a step back, not wanting to go any further. 

“You go ahead, pal,” Peter gestured to the carcass. “Bon appetite.”

“Got the time?” Winston asked Ray. 

“Half past ten. We got plenty.” 

 

Halfway into the deep woods, the werewolf stopped in his tracks, gold eyes focusing on the trail ahead of them; he could see eyes staring at them, counting a total of ten beasts hiding in the shadows. Dart guns were drawn, Ray fired a shot at the slightest sound to his left; a woman of thirty staggered out, collapsing on the ground. A burly wolf leaped out to tackle Peter, a dart lodged itself in the beast’s abdomen. 

“Sic ‘em, boy!” Venkman yelled out. The black werewolf bounded off, managing to bring two out; ten dwindled down to four, but company was still on the way. Twenty had rushed them from every direction, Egon tussling it out with four and won the opposing beasts over. 

“Status on the darts, guys?” Winston called, taking two down. 

“Two clips left!” Ray grunted, firing four.

“I’m getting there,” Peter grumbled, zapping a wolf off him and fired a dart.

A deep howl sounded through the woods, every werewolf in Lars’ pack backed off, those who were cured found safety in the woods away from the beast that turned them. Lars lowly growled while he strolled up to the clearing the Ghostbusters were found, his eye keenly staring at the seven foot tall werewolf who was not heeding to the beast’s calls. Spengler stood his ground, backing towards the guys in defense mode; Lars gave another howl, expecting Egon to stand down and submit. 

The werewolf still stood, gold eyes calculating and examining him. Lars peeled back his lips and his jaw hung ajar, deep and threatening snarls sounding from him. To Egon’s beastly mind, this was a challenge; Egon got down on all fours, bristling his fur and snarled in the same manner. 

“This is going to get ugly, guys,” Ray mumbled to his cohorts. “Should we run for cover?”

“While we’re at it, see if we can cure anyone else,” Winston nodded, cautiously making his way into the woods. 

Both wolves took off charging to the middle, Spengler almost had the wind knocked out of him from the impact, Lars was perhaps a foot taller than him and bulky in mass which served Lars an advantage. Egon had a strong grip on Lars’ shoulder, his claws digging into his opponent’s other shoulder and side; Lars bit at an ear, slashing Spengler’s chest. The two broke apart, circling and continued the fight. Egon missed a blow to Lars’ chest, becoming pinned by the larger wolf; he snarled and snapped, getting his feet under and kicked Lars off him. 

The bulky wolf was dazed after hitting the ground hard, Egon seized the opportunity to pin Lars down and clamp his jaws around the wolf’s neck, threatening to break the skin. Lars had located an omega in the woods, calling to him; Spengler felt a large mass bash against him, he flew ten feet away and rolled to his feet. The wolf who pushed him off Lars charged full speed, soon being met with a slash to its face; while Egon was distracted, Lars recovered and rammed into Spengler. His teeth sunk deep into the black wolf’s left side, claws accompanying it; Egon roared in pain, tearing at whatever he could to get Lars off him, yelps mixing with growls and snarls. 

“Egon’s in trouble!” Ray exclaimed, gazing out into the clearing. His magazines were empty, he grabbed his thrower and went out. 

“Ray! Get back here!” Winston shouted. 

Lars was bombarded with deep slashes from Spengler and held on, a human figure soon coming into his peripheral vision. Becoming greedy with power he released himself and stalked towards the human. Ray stopped in his tracks, facing death down as Lars crept to him; he paced his breathing, finger on the trigger of his thrower. Egon was recovering from the deep injury, gold eyes landing on Ray out in the open with Lars going after him. The black wolf snarled, getting on all fours and charged.

The larger wolf’s maw dripped with saliva and blood, painting the ground with it; he was about to jump the human when a jaw sunk teeth into his ankle and Lars was flung across the clearing. He was faintly stunned from the landing, having struck a boulder on the way down; Egon tore tooth and claw into Lars, not having the other get a chance to go on the offense. Ray, Peter, and Winston watched with morbid curiosity while Spengler carve Lars like a Christmas turkey, pure carnage the way Egon overpowered his opponent, they had shivers from the ferocious nature of the beast that was usually a calm and collected scientist.

Lars managed to shove Egon off him, the two wolves pausing their fight; the larger wolf huffed, licking its maw, and turned to leave. He conceded to this fight, surrendering this part of territory to the victor; Spengler panted, watching Lars forfeit and surrender this round caused a great deal of pride in the wolf. Five werewolves left uncured made their way over to their new alpha, getting on the ground and exposing their bellies. The black wolf held a dominating stance over them, lightly snarling. One female made herself known to be available, rubbing against Egon; the black wolf groaned, backing away from the advancing female and limped over to the emerging Ghostbusters. 

“You okay, Egon?” Winston inspected the wolf’s body from a safe distance.

The wolf groaned, the wound throbbing, though paid it no immediate attention; Spengler didn’t seem to mind it. The werewolf, acting on instinct, marked his territory and headed out back to the hearse, the five wolves close behind him. The three humans exchanged glances, worried about Egon’s condition and followed after the small pack. 

The five were cured via the extra magazine, those who were cured safely returned to town, thanking the Ghostbusters for their efforts. Egon found his clothing still neatly folded near the entrance, groaning from the reverse changes back into human form. 

“Well, when you put it like that,” Peter mentioned as he saw the damage done to Spengler’s body, noticing how it didn’t seem to look like it hurt in his other form.

Bruises appeared in spots, cuts and gashes along his entire anatomy; the biggest concern was the deep wound on his side. 

“Jesus, Egon, maybe we should take you to the hospital,” Ray spoke up, seeing the bloody wound seep through Egon’s jumpsuit. 

“I’ll be fine, Ray, there was instant tissue regeneration when I was bit by our friend Lars,” Egon mumbled, limping to the back seat of Ecto-1. “It should heal in a matter of hours.”

“That was a bite, Spengs, this is serious,” Peter set his proton pack on the rack. “But try not to bleed all over the upholstery.” 

“Pete’s right,” Winston put his hands on his hips. The door to the left passenger back seat was wide open, Egon was lying back against the seat with his hands clutching the wound, the three Ghostbusters gathered around their injured comrade. “It might not heal completely, it could take days.” 

“I’m aware of how serious it looks, however, and I will stress again, I am fine,” Spengler almost growled, the three humans giving wary glances to each other. “The tissue regeneration is starting as we speak. Let’s go.”

Peter raised a brow at the other two, nodding. “You heard the man.” He gave one last worried glance at the physicist, getting into the front seat. In all his years of knowing him, it surprised Venkman to see Egon act in a somewhat uncharacteristic way, the new addition to his lifelong colleague becoming a part of him which Peter almost wanted to pick apart at but refrained in fear of getting his throat slashed open. 

From what he saw, that would be a hard no. 

 

“Are you alright, Dr. Spengler? You look a little worse for wear,” Janine set a mug of tea on the work bench. She noticed a cut on his left ear, a bruise sort of hiding itself underneath his shirt collar, his ring and pinky fingers taped together on one hand. “What happened?” 

“It’s … it’s nothing, Janine,” he chose his words carefully, however he sighed and gave in. “I take that back … I have to tell you something.” He grabbed a screwdriver, fixing a trap. “If we want this to continue, we have to be honest and open to each other. Come back tonight, I’ll let you decide then.”

“Why don’t you tell me now?”

Egon paused his work. “Hypothetically, what would you say right now if I told you I was a werewolf?”

“That’s not the craziest thing I’ve heard my whole life …”

“I’m serious.” He turned the stool to face her. His face had a nervous stare on it, trying to cover it up with his usual stone faced façade. 

“Well … I wouldn’t believe you at first until I see it for myself. But I know you to be an honest man, Egon,” she rubbed his right upper arm, he faintly winced as it was tender from the fight last night. “If it’s hypothetically, I would believe you. If it’s the real deal, I’d have to take a moment to process it, but don’t get me wrong, I love you either way. Werewolf or not.”

That set his mind at ease. “Good.” Not on his own instinct, Spengler leaned forward and pecked Janine on the lips. Both were taken by surprise on this, he more than she was. The wolf inside him lunged forward, taking over as he gradually brought Janine closer to him for a more passionate kiss. They broke away from each other, heat rising between their shivering bodies. 

Janine was the one to make sure no one was around, they were alone in the basement; date number two coming up, and he was being very intimate at the moment. She didn’t mind, of course, but for both their professional sake, it would be best to keep it under wraps. 

“I better get back work,” Janine softly told him, playing with his shirt collar. “I enjoyed that very much, Egon. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” 

Spengler was speechless after what he experienced, giving her a nod. He watched her climb the stairs and exit, wringing his hands to calm the need to procreate thanks to his wolfish needs, giving a short, annoyed growl.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janine witnesses the transformation. The large bite Gustavson took out on Spengler seems to have left something of the former's behind, lurking in the mind of the Brains of the Ghostbusters.

Janine returned around ten that night, Ray was slightly surprised to see her come down the basement stairs. He looked to Egon for answers but got none from the stone-faced physicist. Stantz didn’t say anything to press the matter, gradually putting the pieces together of a working theory as to why Janine of all people needed to know what was going on with Egon; he simply shrugged, walking over to the camcorder, pressing record button. 

“Drs. Raymond Stantz and Egon Spengler, July 10th 1991. After answering a call regarding werewolves, our colleague, Dr. Spengler was bit during the investigation,” Ray spoke into the tape recorder. “Initial transformation happened the during second cycle of the full moon after the bite, subsequent changes were in the normal parameters of the cycle. Dr. Spengler and myself are gathering information of the werewolf species for an updated encyclopedia of entities of the spiritual and physical matter, suffice to say his quote-unquote curse proved to be a valuable tool in our research.”

Janine sat herself on a stool, feeling Egon’s stare; she glanced over to him, seeing the pain he was in. Chills ran down her spine, the feral gaze his eyes gave Janine added an animalistic nature to him. Spengler stifled a cry, groaning as he couldn’t hold it in any longer, shivering and giving in to the changes happening. He crumpled to the floor, Janine was frozen in terror watching his body grow and change into a large canine form.

“We are approximately now in the fourth full moon cycle, second night,” Ray noted. “Our other colleague, Dr. Peter Venkman is on standby for assistance, much to his protests.” 

When at last the final changes were made, the werewolf stood on his digitigrade legs, sending a deep howl through the firehouse. A new scent came to the wolf’s nose, a familiar one at that – the female. Janine lightly gasped when the gold eyes of Egon found her. 

“Stay very still, Janine. Let him come to you,” Ray coached her, stopping the tape recorder and letting the camera keep going. 

Her breath was shaky, heart rate rising the closer the wolf got. He was down on all fours, registering her scent; thoughts raced through her head – first and foremost this cannot be happening and yet it was, and secondly, she feared for her life. A short groan came from the wolf, his tail wagging madly. Janine opened her tightly shut eyes to see the black werewolf giving all his attention to her. 

Janine let out a breath to calm her nerves, finally speaking to the beast. “Egon?”

The werewolf answered with a couple licks on her chin and cheek, rising to put his hand-like paws on her knees. The wolf stared down at her, head cocked and tail still wagging. 

“Easy, Spengler, easy, down, off Ms. Melnitz, please,” Ray took a couple steps forward, hand out. “Take it easy, Spengler. First time she’s seeing you like this, let’s not scare her, alright?”

Egon huffed and whined, stepping off Janine, ears faintly folded back and tail gradually tucked. The black wolf turned his attention to Ray, trotting over to the human. The human mind of Spengler was shut off, the wolf’s dog like nature taking over as the werewolf rubbed against Ray and rolled to the floor, pawing at the air. 

“Hey buddy,” Ray stooped, giving the wolf’s belly a good rub. 

“Is that … really Egon?” Janine asked, timidly stepping off the stool, keeping her distance. “It’s … odd seeing him like this.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Ray told her, standing up. The wolf rolled to sit up, his stare finding Janine. “I’d say he’s adjusting pretty well. Though we do have slight opposition from Winston. Spengler, at the moment, is a wild animal, but acts like a domesticated dog. Sometimes. Z’s mostly worried in the near future Spengler might turn on us in this form.”  
Egon got up to walk to Janine, sitting on the floor halfway over to her; she was calm enough to approach him, her hand reaching out to let him sniff it. 

“Will that happen?” Janine slightly crouched, the wolf’s nose was wet and cold on her fingers while Egon sniffed, nudging her hand for a scratch. She eventually obliged, giving him a small smile. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Ray grabbed a clipboard, jotting down notes. “Subject stands four and a half feet tall shoulder height, standing to his full height, the subject appears to have grown half a foot since the initial transformation, registering at seven and a half. Going off eyeballed schematics of the one who bit Dr. Spengler, most werewolves stand roughly eight feet tall max. Closest mammal to this height would be a full grown polar bear.”

“I gotta say, Dr. Spengler, you look kinda cute,” Janine warmly grinned, scratching the wolf’s chin. “It’s a new look for you, but I think you pull it off.”

“Okay, Ray, I got what you needed,” Peter’s voice was heard from the doorway of the basement. He trotted down the stairs, making his way over, giving Egon a pat on the head. 

“Hey, Scruffy.” He held up a small antenna and GPS tracking device and a radio collar. “You sure this is necessary?”

“Peter, we need to know what Spengler’s territory is. This tracking collar will give us an idea.” 

“I’d say it’d be here to Central Park, there has been a musty smell sometimes on the way over I’ve noticed.” He handed Ray the collar and tracker, shuffling over to Egon. “You’ve been a busy boy, haven’t you, Scruffy?” The werewolf lightly groaned at the cutesy voice Peter was putting on. “Who’s a good boy? C’mon, who’s a good boy?”  
Janine and Ray looked on with amused looks. Egon was fighting the petting and scratching, gradually lying on his side with his belly exposed and tail thumping the floor, Peter rubbed and scratched every surface on the wolf, continuing to coo. 

“Yeah, there’s a good boy, you love this, don’t you, yes, you do …”

Janine gazed down at the werewolf, weighing the pros and cons. The hypothetical was fact and reality, witnessing Spengler act part domesticated dog part stoic wolf. Was this werewolf part of him the reason behind Egon’s advances? Would his feelings for her disappear if Spengler doesn’t have this type of drive? Janine mulled over her thoughts, pressing further.

“Would he be like this forever?” she asked Ray.

He wasn’t sure how to answer that, he lightly bit his lip. “Spengler and I were wondering how long we would carry this study on. We’ve thought about a year, maybe longer if there are any significant changes.” He crossed his arms. “So far, I’ve found two safe ways of him becoming fully human again. We have the synthetic wolfsbane that’s proven to cure lycanthropy, and I’ve found if the victim or anyone else kills the werewolf that bit them then the afflicted would be free. Which causes a problem, the one that bit him has some kind of hold over all the other werewolves he’s turned in the past, making it impossible for those affected to turn on him.”

He gestured to Egon being bombarded and teased by Venkman. “Egon isn’t affected by Big Nasty’s ultra-alpha dominance. He’s his own wolf, which is what we’re also working to find the cause as to why that is. From collected data and from Egon’s experiences, we have a theory that with Big Nasty’s natural super manipulative near hypnotic power, it only works on the weak willed and minded, as harsh as that sounds.”

“Yeah, and you showed Big Nasty who was boss last night, didn’t you?” Peter cooed, finding he found a sweet spot in his words with Spengler – the black wolf was panting, tongue lolling out of his mouth, the tail madly thumping. “Ohh ho ho, did I make you happy? Huh? Who’s a big, strong alpha, eh?” The wolf groaned, rolling to his feet and bombarded Peter with licks, his whole body wagging with his tail; Venkman was nearly knocked over. “Dah! Ah, dog germs! Easy, boy easy!”

Janine tried to hold back a giggle, Ray chuckled. It was amusing to see Spengler, the almost mistaken for a robot of a physicist, act like a puppy. The werewolf stepped back, licking his nose; Peter recovered from the ordeal, wiping his face with his coat sleeve and hands best he could. 

Ray turned the tracker and collar on, whistling for the wolf’s attention. The beast strolled over, sitting up, the collar slipped around his neck. 

“Go as far as you need to, we need to know how far your territory extends to,” Ray told Egon, receiving a huff from the wolf in agreement. “We’ll be following you from behind.”

 

The black wolf stepped out of the firehouse, sniffing the air; Janine watched from Ecto-1, deciding whether to call it a night and speak with Egon in the morning or stay the night. She was curious what goes on, needed to understand him more in his new form. Not to make it seem like she was all that concerned, she bid Ray and Peter good night, stepping out to the wolf.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?” she leaned into his ear. “I love you, Egon.” She ruffled the fur on his head. “Be careful.” Egon let out a small groan, watching Janine get in her car and drive off, feeling optimistic.

The wolf then howled in the night, receiving answering calls; Egon headed off, searching through Lower Manhattan for his pack members, heading north to Midtown. 

“Wow, there’s gotta be at least ten in the pack!” Ray was trying to count the wolves. “I wonder how many werewolves there actually are in the Manhattan peninsula!” 

“We’re about to find out, Ray,” Peter mumbled, becoming a little intimidated how many wolves came out in Midtown. Fifteen wolves gathered with their pack mates, heeding to their alpha’s moves. Egon kept trekking north to the Upper East and West Side, the number of werewolves were beginning to raise brows from Ray and Peter. Five trotted to catch up. By the time they reached Harlem, it astounded Ray how many wolves were in Egon’s pack. 

“I count thirty wolves in all, not including Spengler,” Ray sighed out, running a hand through his hair. “This is extraordinary. Normally, a regular wolf pack has six to seven, max fifteen. But with werewolves, it’s a whole new ball game … they’re independent humans by day, creatures of the night heeding by the alpha’s calls. This could spell trouble.”

“I’d say it already is,” Peter brought Ecto-1 to a halt. They were just on the border of Upper Manhattan, a gray wolf came towards the black alpha; it bristled its fur, snarling. Egon stood his ground, not answering by making the same pose his opponent made. 

The black took two steps back, faking a retreat when he charged for the gray wolf’s territory, his pack right behind him. 

“Aw jeez, territory war. Find a safe spot to park, Pete,” Ray told him, his brows knitted together in concern. “This is incredible, just incredible.”

Egon was getting the upper hand in the fight when the gray wolf slipped out and started to retreat, the black wolf and his pack soon chasing after them. Ecto-1 followed behind, coming to a stop in Washington Heights. The black wolf’s pack howled in triumph, gaining new territory, the losers pushed back across the way. 

“C’mon, let’s head back,” Peter mumbled, yawning. “Spengs will be back in the morning.”

“We just witnessed a territorial war. This is incredible stuff, Venkman,” Ray grinned. “I can’t wait to converse with Spengler about all this.”

“Well there’s the big guy himself, go converse,” Peter pointed out the driver’s side window.

The black wolf trotted over, though something was off. He looked feral, closer to a natural wolf than anthropomorphic; Egon snarled, fur bristling, lips peeled back in baring his teeth. Ray and Peter exchanged worried glances, Venkman was going to start the hearse though they were surrounded by the wolf’s pack. 

“Tell me you brought a tranquilizer gun with you,” Peter muttered. “If you didn’t and I get bit, I will tear you to shreds.”

“I did bring a sedative,” Ray lowly spoke, reaching for the tranquilizer gun under the seat. “It’s only been a few months now. Spengler and I figured it wouldn’t be so early to turn feral.”

“Thought he already was feral, you know, being an animal and all.”

“We developed a system. Feral would be not able to recognize friends, extreme displays of aggression, common associations with bloodthirsty killing machines attributed to basic werewolf lore,” Ray loaded a sedative. “To put it in Egon’s terms, very bad.” He handed Peter the pistol. “I need you to fire it, you have a better vantage point. If he runs, we follow.”

Peter hesitantly took the dart gun, lining up the sights; the beast’s snarls got louder, inching closer to the hearse. Venkman almost fired when the wolf took off back south. Peter sighed in relief, setting the pistol aside. Ecto-1 screamed through the streets of Manhattan, the beeps on the tracker giving Egon’s location. The black wolf called for his pack to disperse, leaping over the wall into Central Park. 

“He’s heading for Umpire Rock!” Ray informed Peter. The hearse screeched to a halt outside the nearest entry point. The two Ghostbusters hauled it over to the large rock, the black wolf standing on top of it; the feral Spengler snapped his jaws in a bark, taking a step forward. 

“Easy, big guy,” Peter aimed the pistol at him. “You try to jump us, I’ll pop a sedative in your ass.”

“Peter,” Ray hissed at him, turning his attention to Egon. “Spengler, it’s me, Ray Stantz. Listen, you’ve become feral. A little too early if you ask me.” He took two steps forward, the werewolf inching closer. “C’mon, Egon, take a second to recognize us. You know us.”

“Ray, take a closer at his eyes,” Peter noted. Egon’s eyes weren’t entirely gold. They were clouded over by a green haze. “You think our buddy Lars has something to do with this?” 

The black wolf made a lunge, on instinct Peter pulled the trigger, the dart landing itself in Egon’s shoulder. The werewolf loudly snarled, loping to Venkman, his movements becoming sluggish. The black wolf groaned, collapsing to the ground under the sedative. The PKE meter on Ray’s belt chirped. Stantz looked at the readings, eyes darting to Spengler as he inched closer. 

“This is not good, Venkman,” he announced, brows furrowing. “I have it on his biometric readings, and there’s something very wrong here. You’re right. It might have something to do with Lars.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not hauling a one ton werewolf back to the hearse,” Peter nudged Egon in the side with his shoe. 

“He should be changing back soon, it’s almost dawn.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little problem plaguing Spengler is quickly snuffed out, much to Gustavson's frustration. Beauty meets the Beast yet again.

Egon woke up with a splitting headache, grumbling when he sat up. 

“There’s Sleeping Beauty,” he heard Peter’s voice from the door to the bunk room. “Sleep well?”

“He’s awake?” Ray called from below, his feet being heard up the stairs. He almost ran past Peter over to Egon’s bed. “Spengler, do you remember anything at all last night?”

Egon sat against the headboard, blinking a couple times, rubbing his eyes. His mind was in a faint fog, though he was able to recollect. 

“I recall Janine being present with us in the basement, we gathered the boundaries of my territory,” stating the basic facts. The headache increased with remembering the next part. Egon winced, shutting his eyes. “I … remember a werewolf, gray in color, I charged after him …,” he growled, the migraine pulsing, “Venkman, could you close the blinds? I’m having difficulty keeping my eyes open.”

“Spengler, you went feral last night,” Ray informed him. “Peter and I speculate with Lars’ influence. Your biometric readings had a hint of psychokinetic energy matching his patterns.”

“Impossible.” It was still bright. “Venkman, please, the blinds?”

“Now you say ‘please’,” Peter moved to pull down the curtains.

“And I’ve been doing extensive research on Lars Gustavson,” Ray went on, “turns out, our buddy Lars is a werewolf, no doubt, like from what you found, and I got more information on Somna. It feeds off a person’s mental energy, like a vampire, rendering its victim unable to free themselves from its control. When Lars bit a chunk out of you the other night, he must’ve drained you a little bit of your psychic energy!”

“We have to run tests immediately,” Egon sat on the edge of the bed. “If there’s any residue, we must extract it.” Reaching for his glasses and putting them on, the world swam in his vision. Spengler put his spectacles back on the nightstand. “Right after I take aspirin.” 

 

“Maybe the reason he has this so-called natural ability is because of the little bugger he’s got rooting around in him, possibly from the get go,” Ray suggested, jotting down Egon’s brainwave patterns. “It’s heightened it.”

“His range would have been increased since he was able to reach me this far from Rotterdam,” Egon speculated. 

“It’s possible you gave him a boost with that cranium of yours,” Stantz teased. He looked on the aural monitor, eyes squinting when he saw something flicker on the screen. There was a significant tick in the pattern readings as well, his brows faintly knitted together. “How are you feeling?”

“My normal patterns have been disturbed by an anomaly, I can’t think straight,” Egon reported. He grabbed the PKE meter, scanning himself; the area where Lars dug into him the other night caused the meter to whizz loudly. “Ray, I suggest you stay as far away from me as you can. Drop me off at Central Park, I’ll make my way back in the morning.”

“Is it bad?”

“Very.”

 

“Have you come to a decision?” 

“Yes, I have,” Janine sipped her tea while they sat in the cafe. 

“And?”

“Let’s keep it going.” Egon glanced over to see a grin on her lips. He felt at ease, faintly smirking. 

“Good.” 

“When’s date number three, then?”

Egon’s face faintly dropped. “Hard to say. Ray and I have found an unwelcome irregularity today.”

“Oh, no, Egon,” she put a hand over his. “What was it?”

“It’s … difficult to explain. Just keep a distance for tonight.” Did he squeeze her hand, or did she squeeze his? It was difficult to say, but nonetheless, he graciously took the comfort.

 

Ray was stooped over a whole library of books on the desk in the lab; there had to be a way to release the hold over a victim from the parasite. He looked at his watch – eleven at night. He dropped Spengler off just as the sun was setting. Stantz removed his reading glasses, rubbing his eyes. Focusing his vision, he turned a page of a collection of parasitic spirits, an entry caught his eye – and it was the answer he needed, albeit silly.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding,” he mumbled, almost laughing. 

“Ray? Do I need to your comic books away?” Peter was heard from the bunk room across the way. 

“No. Just come here and take a look at this,” Ray sat back, crossing his arms, chuckling. “Off the top of your head, what’s a common catchphrase with magicians?”

“Magicians?” Peter shuffled into the lab. “Abracadabra? Alakazam? Shazam?”

“Bingo.”

“Okay, I’ll bite, what did you find?”

Ray read from the entry. “Somna is a parasitic spirit. Similar to a psychic vampire, it feeds of its victim’s psychic energy, draining their will power. However, there is a cure for the host or the afflicted: recite the casting rite and call out ‘Shazam’, dousing the infected with smelling salts.” 

“That’s it? Really, Ray? Smelling salts? Shazam, of all phrases?”

“Convoluted, yes, but apparently it’s worked on several people given the last bit of the entry. ‘It has been proven to work on more than ten individuals infected by the being known as Harry the Magnificent, a host of Somna.’ Now, where have we heard that name before?” Ray gave Peter a grin. 

“Lars,” they both spoke.

 

The dark werewolf trotted across bridges in the wooded area of the park, sniffing the air for prey; a sharp pain had suddenly skewered Spengler’s mind, the black wolf whining. A green fog shrouded his eyes, his form shifting to fit that of a natural wolf; his fur covered paw-like hands became full paws, mass was added in his muscles, a broader head. Lars could now see through Egon’s eyes, internally smirking at the profound leap in range he had; all he needed to do was to bite deep and hold on, and Somna would do the rest, create a hole in Ghostbuster’s mental prowess and he would be Lars’ to control.

The feral beast snarled, dashing off into the open, terrorizing park goers; Ecto-1 came to a halt at the east entrance, Ray and Peter rushing inside.

“Man, I wish Winston could be here. He’d be saying ‘I told you so’ all night long,” Peter panted. “Wish he didn’t request this time off.”

“We gotta hurry!” Ray bounded down the pavement, scanning the air for the radio signal on the collar. “Who knows what Big Nasty is having Egon do.” He skidded to a halt halfway into the park, hearing the small ‘ping’, a grin came across his lips, the GPS pinpointing Spengler’s location. “He’s just to the north, c’mon!”

“It’s time out in the kennel for Egon when we get home,” Peter mumbled, trailing behind Ray. “Let him come to us, Ray, please.” 

The wolf sniffed the air, smelling two familiar scents; Lars pushed the black wolf to stalk the two humans and turn them, Somna’s work drowning Spengler’s resistance to harm his comrades. The feral wolf snarled and whined to himself, Egon attempting to break free from Lars’ control; the scarred wound flaring up, sending a shock of pain making it unbearable to cope with. 

Lars won over Egon, the black wolf keeping to the brush; he found the two men making their way towards him. Lie still and wait, their time will come shortly. 

“You got extra readings, Venkman?” Ray asked, casually turning in a circle, the antenna in the air. “He’s in the area.”

“He’s waiting. No doubt to surprise us.” Peter addressed the shrubs and trees. “You hear that, Lars ol’ buddy? We got a secret weapon. We know you’re watching us. Why don’t you have Egon mosey on over to us and we’ll duke it out, huh?”

Full of pride, the black wolf leaped out from the dark; the green hazy eyes reminded Ray of light bouncing off an animal’s eyes, adding to the ominous aesthetic of the werewolf. He marveled at the adjustments to Egon’s form after Lars had control of him, quickly snapping out of it once Peter grabbed his jacket sleeve and jerked him out of the way once the wolf made a flying leap at them. 

“Ray, now would be a good time to use that little exorcism spell …”

“Right, uh,” Ray cleared his throat, addressing the wolf, his hands outreaching to the beast and inched close enough. “Somna, demon of the cerebral, I command you to be released from Egon Aldo Spengler, and sent to the depths of Hell from whence you came from.” He pulled out a capsule of smelling salts, cracking it open quickly. “Shazam!” He flung the salt in the wolf’s face just when the beast was about to lunge, the feral wolf started to groan and howl. 

Lars howled in the deep parts of the reserve, feeling the connection be lost and Somna removed from Spengler. He snarled in frustration, taking it out on any unfortunate omegas in his vicinity. He was sure they wouldn’t find the cure, underestimating the Ghostbusters and their library, he was a fool to think he would get away with it. This meant war.  
Peter held Ray back while Egon yelped and whined, a migraine pushing through while the exorcism happened, a faded green specter rose from the beast and evaporated into the night air. The fog dispersed, leaving the wolf exhausted once his eyes cleared; a pair of gold eyes fell upon the two humans, the black werewolf shrinking back to his original form. Egon groaned, ears tilted back, tail slightly tucked; the wolf softly whined, stepping back. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, Egon,” Ray calmly assured him, gradually approaching him. The wolf stayed still while Stantz was close enough to scratch him between the ears on his head. 

“We found the cure. You didn’t do anything. It’s alright, buddy.”

Peter was watching the werewolf’s body language carefully, catching the nervous posture and timid steps backwards. The wolf groaned, backing away from the humans. Ray furrowed his brows, noticing the fearful stance the wolf was making. 

“You alright, Spengler?” Ray reached a hand out only for it to get nipped at by the scared wolf. He flinched it back to his chest, checking for any bite marks. Seeing none, he glanced up at the beast scampering away. “Egon …”

“Let’s hope it’s temporary, Ray,” Peter patted his colleague on the shoulder. “That canine brain of his is probably spooked from what just happened. He should be back to us by morning. Let’s get some shut eye, okay?”

“But … we gotta make sure he’s okay.”

“He can take care of himself, Ray. He’s a wolf, they’re more afraid of us than we are of them. Give it a rest tonight.”

 

The werewolf wandered the city, a scent on his nose; he wasn’t sure to say who it was, but it drove him mad. The closer he got, the more he grew ravenous. It was sweet and succulent, the wolf’s mouth watering and the heat rising in him. He paused by an apartment building, the scent permeating off it. He snuck to the alleyway, leaping onto the fire escape, coming to a window of one apartment where the scent was coming from. 

A red haired woman stepped into the window’s view, she curled up on the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a random novel. The wolf’s gold eyes studied her features, vaguely remembering her. He gave a small huff and a whine, tapping a clawed finger on the window. 

Janine had just started reading Anna Karenina when she heard a soft tap on the window facing her; her heart almost leaped into her throat when she saw a black beast sitting on the fire escape. It took her a second to register that the wolf looked familiar; Janine cautiously rose and trekked to the window, lifting the pane open. 

“Egon?” 

The black wolf shimmied his way inside, landing gracefully on the wood floors; he delicately sniffed her clothing and skin, the scent registering clearly now – his mate. His tail gently wagging gave Janine the sign that it was Egon and he was no threat to her, that she was safe. 

“You warned me to stay clear of you, but … maybe you got whatever it was that was afflicting you fixed,” she sat back down, pulling the afghan over her lower half. The black wolf huffed, joining her and sat on the floor in front of the couch. He crossed his fur covered paw-like hands and laid his head on them, sighing out. 

The shine on his fur looked inviting to Janine, she was cautious putting a hand out and petting his fur. It was surprisingly soft, like Angora, she couldn’t stop brushing his coat. The wolf let his eyes doze for a second, tail lightly tapping the floor. He felt a light pressure on his side, cracking open an eye and lifting his head to see Janine curled up against him and reading her novel; the black beast let out a yawn, laying his head back down on his paw-like hands. 

“I started reading this last night, it’s very interesting,” Janine brought up. “You don’t look like the type of guy to read Tolstoy. But maybe I’m wrong. I like reading the classics, something about the Russian writers, Dostoyevsky and others that captivates the realism in human lives.” She paused. “I’m babbling. You might need to head back, don’t you?”

Her stare was met with a pair of gold eyes, they were tame and calculating; the werewolf faintly groaned, resuming his resting. The wolf enjoyed the female human’s company; somewhere in his mind, Egon didn’t mind either. Janine took this as a sign she’d have company for the night. She set the book down, kneeling on her heels. 

“You want that collar off?” The werewolf gently pulled at it, giving a short huff. Once it came off, he gave a quick shake of his head. She was thanked by a few small licks on her chin, Janine grinned to herself. Her hand ran through Egon’s coat before she rested on the floor up against his side; his breathing was steady and calm, the soft thud of his heart was enough to send Janine to sleep. 

The werewolf curled up around Janine, closing his eyes and drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tale as old as time ... True as it can be ...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars has a little surprise waiting for the Ghostbusters ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (stillbadatwritingactionbekindpleasethankyou)

By the time Egon woke up the next morning in the early dawn hours, two things were very clear – he was stark naked, and he was not at the firehouse. 

“Shit,” he whispered, leaping to his feet, grabbing the afghan off the couch, wrapping it around his waist. Vision blurry – no glasses. “Shit, shit …”

“Morning,” came an oddly chipper voice. 

“Janine, I -,” he spun around to face her.

“It’s okay. Nothing happened last night,” she assured him. “I did sneak back to get you some clothes and glasses. They’re in the bathroom.”

“I deeply appreciate this, Janine.” He moved to make a beeline for the bathroom, Janine pausing him with a hand to his chest. Spengler gave her a faintly quizzical look, his features smoothing out as she reached up on her toes, meeting her in the middle with a brief kiss. He quickly maneuvered finally to change into blue jeans, a Penn State sweatshirt, and boots. Slipping his pair of glasses on once he came out, Janine came over to him with the radio collar. 

“I called a cab for you.” She paused, shifting her weight. “Did you guys find a cure for what you had?”

“I … am not sure. I’m disoriented presently. You’re definite nothing happened?”

“I was just about to read then you showed up at my fire escape window and I let you in. You curled up by the sofa and I joined you on the floor. Slept like a baby last night, like I haven’t slept like that in months.” A faint honk came from outside, Egon snapped his gaze to the window facing the street, taking the collar in hand. 

“Thank you, Janine.” Without thinking, he planted a kiss on her head and headed for the door. Egon didn’t take the time to pause and realize what he did, he had to get back to the firehouse. Janine softly smile to herself, her heart faintly fluttered. 

 

“This isn’t like Egon to not come back before the sun came up,” Ray mumbled loudly, working on sketches. He erased a couple lines, pushing the eraser debris to the side and continued. 

“Well, no calls from the police department last night so I’d say he wasn’t found pissing on a fire hydrant or mating with the wolves at the zoo,” Peter pulled up a chair at Janine’s desk where Ray was drawing. One finished sketch was Egon’s usual werewolf form shadowed by a standard human shaped silhouette, the current drawing was that of his feral form from the past two nights. “I gotta hand it to ya, Ray, maybe Mr. Upper-Vest-Side can take you on at the art museum.”

“I’m here!” Egon called from the doors, running over to them. “Ray, we have to run scans immediately.” He panted, leaning forward on the desk. 

“Where were you, young man?” Peter stood, crossing his arms. “Your mother and I were worried sick!” 

“Now’s not the time, Venkman,” Egon mumbled. “What happened last night?”

“You … you don’t remember?” Ray drew his brows together in worry. Seeing the somewhat frantic look Egon sported in his gaze, Ray explained. “Lars must have taken control over you from the time I dropped you off, and you changed to when we found you. We did find a cure to release Somna from you, but after it was exorcised and you free from Lars, it was like you were afraid of me and Peter. You scampered off. I wanted to track you down to see if you were alright, but Venkman suggested we head back.”

“Why didn’t you track me down after Somna was exorcised?”

“You looked pretty spooked, Spengs,” Peter jumped in. “It was like you were switched off and Scruffy got overwhelmed after the ordeal. I didn’t want to create any more pressure on you, that would’ve led to one of us or both of us being bit. It took Ray some convincing, but we came back.”

“I … must have blacked out. I don’t remember anything after Somna invaded and interrupted my cognitive thinking.” Spengler removed his glasses to rub his eyes, placing them back on. “You are right, Venkman. Had you pressed on, I would have attempted to cause harm to you or Ray. I am thankful you decided not to, I was disoriented drastically.”

“Does it feel like you have this fog?” Ray inquired, hoping they did the right thing last night. 

“I am able to function normally. I sense no abnormalities within my mind.”

“Egon dot exe has successfully rebooted,” Peter teased under his breath. 

Having heard that remark, Spengler gave Venkman a side eye look, rolling his eyes and sighed out. 

 

“Anything exciting happen while I was away?” Winston inquired on the drive to a late night call. 

“Well, Lars and his parasitic buddy Somna nabbed Egon for a little while, but we got ‘er taken care of,” Peter sat forward, placing his arms on the back of the front seat. “You’re not gonna believe how we pulled that off.” 

“Somna’s a psychic vampiric parasite,” Ray began, “when Lars did that big number on Egon the other night, Somna and Lars poked a hole big enough in Spengler’s mind to take control of him. All it took was a simple casting rite, some smelling salts, and, I’m not even making this up, exclaiming ‘Shazam’.” Winston started to chuckle. “Z, I’m tellin’ ya, I’m not making this up.”

“Under someone else’s control or not, I have to say, I told you so,” Winston sat back in his seat. 

Ray sighed, looking back to Peter, pulling Ecto-1 to the location of the call; he pulled a ten dollar bill out of his pocket, slipping it to Venkman. They weren’t far from Central Park; Egon had wandered that way after he changed and was collared, the GPS tracking gave small blips on the receiver. Ray shut off the tracker, climbing out of the hearse and grabbing his pack. 

“Class six inside, hopefully we can manage down one guy,” he announced. 

It was an abandoned three level tenant building on the Upper East Side, Ray had taken the ground floor as Winston and Peter trekked upstairs much to Venkman’s dislike of stairs. There was one more flight to go, Peter groaning as they reached the top. 

“I’ll go back down one flight,” Winston told him. “Coms are open. If you see anything, holler.”

“There’s gonna be plenty of that,” Peter mumbled. “Ten bucks says Ray’s gonna scream first.”

_“Coms are open, Venkman,”_ Ray was heard on the headset. _“Though something’s not right here …”_

“Ray, it’s a spooky old building, of course there’s gonna be something not right,” Peter walked the hallway, gradually opening any doors and peeking inside, the flashlight on his shoulder shining into the dusty and mildew smelling rooms. 

_“No, I mean the PKE meter … it’s … I could’ve sworn …”_

“Let’s go while we’re young, Ray, get it out.” Peter stepped into a room that had its door ajar.

_“Venkman, there is no class six here. There is a reading, but it’s really faint and it’s hard to classify it.”_

_“So, we either got a crank call, which we should really crack down on those, or a friendly ghost that doesn’t need to be taken out,”_ Winston was heard on the set. 

“I think ol’ Casper might change his mind and jump us,” Peter said, ten steps inside the room to which the door responded to his remark by shutting on its own. “Told ya. Don’t mind me, guys, you keep going. I can handle it.”

Two big furry hands reached out from behind Peter, the flashlight and his coms being turned off. 

Winston had searched the entire second floor, finding nothing; Pete hasn’t complained in the last ten minutes – either a new record, or something was up. The Ghostbuster came back to the stairs leading to the third floor, starting to the left once he reached the top. 

“Pete, where are you, man?” Winston audibly whispered. He turned his flashlight on as the lights were off. “Peter, c’mon, let’s go.” 

A low growl came from behind him. Winston mouthed ‘shit’ as he froze in his tracks. Gradually turning around, his light came upon a brown colored werewolf with faint hazy green eyes, deeply growling; the beast had torn clothing on it, gray in appearance and had a tattered nametag – ‘Venkman’. 

“Aw, hell no,” Winston muttered. 

Ray finished the ground floor, hearing a few thuds upstairs he went to investigate the second floor. Looking left and right at the entrance, he went to the right down the hallway, checking for any signs with the PKE meter. The reading was still faint, however it somewhat doubled in the last ten minutes. Ray furrowed his brows, turning around to head down the other side. He stopped when his flashlight spotted two werewolves snarling at him with a faint haze in their eyes – Ray gulped hard, not having any smelling salts or wolfsbane darts. 

“Aw, jeez …” 

 

Janine and Egon had secretly met up in Central Park once the guys had gone on the call; the black werewolf’s tail wagged happily, perking up and curling like a husky’s. He rolled to his side, exposing his belly for attention. Janine let out a soft laugh, giving Egon a few good scratches. 

The werewolf leaped to his paws, giving a playful bow and took off a few yards before circling back around to Janine; Egon gently brushed against her, strolling along the wooded areas of the park. Janine took the collar off later in their date, Spengler shaking himself from head to toe, wagging his tail. He was becoming open to her, able to allow himself to be this content and happy due to the human part of his mind was partially shut off; even though he couldn’t talk in this form, Egon looked forward to dates where he could freely express his emotions. Janine was an intelligent and insightful person, though perhaps his field of physics would bore her, she seemed to be intrigued by it from past talks. 

They ended up by Belvedere Castle, staying near the trees, gazing out at the lake. He lied on the ground, laying his head on his paw-like hands, Janine was against his side, a small blanket covering her lower half. She tucked her hands inside the wrists of the sweater she wore, crossing her arms and snuggled more against Egon’s soft fur.

“I’m really enjoying this, Egon,” she remarked, the city’s lights and the world’s natural light shined on the inky black sky. “It’s so beautiful out tonight.” 

Egon had wished their date was the night after, he wanted to take Janine into his arms and kiss her. 

Three howls broke the comfortable silence, Egon raising his head towards the sound, ears forward and swiveling. Janine felt him move, getting up to her feet, panicked eyes watching the werewolf gradually rise to his feet. She read up on wolf body language, his posture wary and feeling threatened; Egon glanced over at Janine, gesturing his head towards the castle as a place for her to hide. 

Three distinct werewolves came out of the shadows, lips peeled back in snarls. Spengler kept his demeanor calm yet cautious, sniffing the wolves from where he stood, their scents making the black wolf’s stomach knot. He knew who they were. 

Winston’s dark fur was as black as the sky, auburn eyes hiding behind a green fog; Peter was the smallest of the group, his own jade hues were marked with Lars’ influence. Ray’s dark brown fur almost black under the lighting, his bulky and muscular mass slightly larger than Winston’s, one auburn and one jade eye clouded. Egon pondered how did Lars turn them this quick in one night, his thoughts distracting him from Peter’s charge. 

The smaller wolf took a running leap at Egon, burying his teeth into his shoulder. Spengler let out a small roar, gripping Peter by his scruff and tossed him off. Egon took two steps backward, showing he didn’t want to fight them. Teeth sunk into a back leg, Spengler found Peter jerking Egon’s right leg, claws digging his hips. Spengler attempted to reach back, two more sets of tooth and claw burying themselves into him. 

Janine was watching from the doorway in the castle, fearing for Egon’s life. She watched as Egon was pinned down by those three werewolves, he was struggling to free himself from them. A thought occurred to her mind – Egon had given her a dart pistol with the synthetic wolfsbane, and it was in her car on the other side of the park. 

“Hang on, Egon,” she whispered to herself, making a break for it, keeping out of the other wolves’ sight. 

At last Egon shook them off him. He hadn’t engaged in going on the offense, him and the wolf knew there had to be a way to break Lars’ control. He thought if he wasn’t going to fight back then Lars would sense Egon wasn’t much of a battle and release them. However, this was proven wrong. Spengler stared his turned comrades down, deciding it was time to go on the offense. Egon bristled his fur, peeling his lips back and snarled, taking a step forward. Peter, Ray, and Winston circled him; Egon thought carefully which order to go in, who to tackle first. As soon as Ray came into view, Egon made a dash for him. 

He stood to his full height, seeing Ray only had a half foot on him when he rose; Egon slashed at Ray’s chest, biting at his arms. Peter charged and jumped on Egon’s back, holding down on a shoulder and dug his claws into his sides; Spengler roared, trying to drive the pain out as he kept on the attack at Ray, who looked to be wearing down from the assault. Giving a kick, Egon sent Ray a few feet from the fight, reaching up and pulled Peter off again, sending him towards Ray. 

Winston let out a bark and charged. Egon turned around just in time to block Winston’s claws from tearing at his chest, Spengler’s arm catching the brunt of it. Egon swiped at Winston’s eyes, narrowly missing and was met with the same blow, claws cutting at his left eye and left a mark. 

Through the blood running across his vision, Egon bashed against Winston, pinning him down on the ground. His biting was met with a powerful jab to his ribs and a second one to his gut; Peter once more jumped on Egon, making precise and quick bites and cuts to wear him down. Spengler backed off, limping away two steps on all fours. He huffed and panted, his left eye closing up from the damages done to it, his good eye carefully watching the three wolves. 

Change the order, he thought to himself. Peter must get taken care of first. Egon locked eyes with Peter, the smaller wolf almost hesitating as the black beast took after him but gladly met him in the middle. Spengler clawed and made downward slashings, taking advantage of his larger size, and tackled Venkman to the ground. He pommeled Peter with a few jabs and punches; two big and furry hands grabbed Egon by the wrists, pulling him off. 

Spengler attempted to break through, but Winston held on tight, getting Egon in a lock he couldn’t get out of. Ray stepped forward, snarling, he balled up his fists, assaulting Egon’s torso with rib breaking jabs and deep lacerations. Peter stepped in now and then with slashes and nearly ripped out Egon’s liver with his teeth. Spengler stayed alive, gathering strength; when Ray came up a second time, Egon used his and Winston’s weight to lift his legs up and kick at Ray’s chest, flipping himself over Winston and pinned Zeddemore to the ground. 

A concussion inducing hit from Ray to Egon’s head made the werewolf lay onto his back; he was an easy and open target for the three wolves, vision coming and going. Claws and teeth buried themselves deep with each blow, finally Ray’s jaws clamped around Egon’s throat, the downed wolf whining. The teeth were breaking skin and almost delivered the fatal bite when his ears picked up other whimpers; with his one good eye he could see the green fog disappear suddenly from Ray’s eyes, the brown wolf’s mismatched eyes realizing what was happening. Stantz immediately got himself off Egon, loud whines emitting from him; Ray looked over and saw Winston and Peter free from Lars’ control, looking at them and down at himself that they had been turned by Lars and used to nearly destroy Egon. 

A sudden sharp bite made contact with his side, Ray yelped and looked to see a dart sticking out. Something entered his bloodstream, reversing the werewolf features and rendering him human, albeit it was painfully slow. Ray came to after the wolfsbane did its work, seeing Peter and Winston change back. He looked over to see Janine rush over to Egon, the dart pistol falling from her hand. Gazing upon the damage they had caused onto Egon, Ray’s heart sank. 

“Oh god … Egon …”

The black wolf was barely breathing, Egon was going in and out of consciousness; he could feel dawn approaching, the tissue regeneration not immediately working due to a significant loss of blood, however it was gradually healing at an excruciatingly slow pace. His body cried out ten fold as he shifted back, the lacerations and bite marks making the scene more unbearable to see; Peter nearly threw up in his mouth, disgusted at himself that they would be used like this. Egon nearly had his throat ripped out by Ray. The engineer cautiously knelt by Egon’s side, reaching to apply pressure on the marks on his neck. 

“Don’t … Ray …” 

“Egon, please, you need help.”

“It’s … fine …”

“Spengs, it’s not fine,” Peter came forward. “As bad enough as it is with all of us in our birthday suits in the presence of Janine, your own body is struggling to heal itself. So, cut the ‘I’m fine’ bullshit, ‘cause you’re not. You’re going to the hospital and that’s final.”

Spengler was silent for a moment, smelling the fresh dew on the grass as the sun was almost on the horizon. His good eye found Janine’s worried stare, keeping to himself as not to let their relationship be known just yet. He let out a shaky breath, finally answering, “Fine.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the fight. Ladies and gentlemen, we have liftoff for the USS Spelnitz. (There's a follow up story after she says "Bed. Now." It got cut for time, but I'll post it in the near future)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of implied Stantzler, Janine's cool with it.

One embarrassing trip to the hearse and firehouse later, the guys carried Spengler wrapped in a carefully torn apart jumpsuit to make it look like he was attacked in his human form. Ecto-1 blared its siren booking it down the New York City streets to the nearest hospital. A stretcher and staff greeted the Ghostbusters, Winston lying Egon on the gurney and followed suit with Ray and Peter. Janine gradually caught up with them, taking a seat next to them in the waiting area; for the next three hours, the sight of Egon’s battered and nearly limp body was burned in their minds. She almost watched him die last night, Janine had thoughts of guilt running through her head. 

“If I had those darts with me …” she started. 

“Janine, don’t beat yourself up,” Peter calmly told her. “It’s us three being the big dummies and not getting out of there the moment we didn’t get anything.” He paused, slightly turning his head to her. “Why were you in the park anyway?” 

“Egon asked me to keep an eye on him,” she quickly told him, most of it was true, just to keep Peter’s mouth shut on the matter. Janine glanced at Peter’s condition up and down.   
“Looks like you didn’t get cut at all.”

“I’m still trying to work through it,” Peter grumbled shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He announced to the other two, “The floor is open for discussion on what the hell just happened to us. Anything is appreciated, your experience, what you felt, any heartwarming tales of hope to share with the audience.”

“I felt violated, Peter,” Ray immediately opened. “The way he just came onto us like that, ambushed us, invaded our minds … it’s not something I don’t want to experience ever again.”

“I feel exactly the same way,” Winston nodded. “I felt twisted in barbed wire, coiling tighter and tighter the harder I fought.” He bowed his head, rubbing his eyes. “Why did he let us go?”

“Million dollar question,” Ray mumbled. “Lars all of a sudden let us go before I …” He bit his bottom lip, feeling his body tremble. “I hope we kill that literal son of a bitch soon.” 

“I’d be happy to be the one to put the bullet in his head,” Winston growled. 

“Easy, guys. Egon might be a wolf for the rest of his life if we intervene in snuffing Big Nasty out,” Peter crossed his arms, still staring out at the wall, keeping his composure. “Or can we, Ray, and not have Egon be the Wolfman for eternity?”

“I’d have to look through what I have on werewolves,” Ray sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. “Maybe we can, since Lars is the one that bit Egon in the first place. But I think it’ll say it has the to be the victim that does it. We were until Janine thankfully stepped in and gave us the shot.”

“Never did thank you, Janine,” Winston sat up. “I think we’re all grateful.” 

A male nurse of twenty-five years of age came to the Ghostbusters. “Are you all here for Mr. Spengler?”

“Doctor Spengler,” Peter corrected him, “and, yes, we are.” 

“Right, if you’ll follow me,” the nurse started to go. 

“Could you tell us what all is going on with him?” Winston had to ask for appearance sake. 

“Mild concussion, five broken ribs, three fractured, multiple lacerations and bite marks, the marks on his neck just barely pierced his carotid and jugular vein. We gave him a shot to stop rabies from forming.” He stopped at the door to Egon’s room. “Bear attack?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Peter pushed through, shaking faintly when he saw Egon’s bandaged body. What lacerations were healed were left alone, his left eye covered, his torso in a plaster cast. He never did like seeing Egon helpless like this, faint memories of Peter’s mother in her hospital bed came to his mind; Venkman did his best to push them aside as he took more steps inside. 

Ray gulped hard at the sight, taking a deep shaky breath to get rid of nerves; Janine held on to Winston for support as they were the last to come in. She’s hardly seen Egon this vulnerable, it frightened her to know that things would have gone a lot worse and he wouldn’t be here alive. 

“Spengler, if … if you’re hearing this, just know I … I’m sorry for what I did to you,” Ray apologized. 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Winston told him. “If there’s anyone who’s gonna feel sorry for all this is Big Nasty when we tan his hide.”

“Zed, I could’ve torn Egon’s throat out …” 

“He’s … right …”

They looked to the source of the weak voice, all eyes falling on Egon. 

“Winston’s … right …” Egon gradually got out. “However, to calm your thoughts, I forgive you.”

“How’s your body doing?” Peter pulled up a chair. 

“Painstakingly regenerating. I gather I will likely be here for a week.”

It would be a week and a half when Egon was discharged, Winston volunteering to pick him up. The journey back was relatively quiet, Spengler had the notion his colleague was deep in thought on a subject. He was about to ask when the Ghostbuster opened. 

“I was scared we were all gonna kill you,” Winston got out. “We had no control over it, merely passengers or like puppets on a string, you know? We’ve all had first hand experience what Lars and this Somna can do, if there’s a way to get that spook out of that son of a bitch then it’ll be easier to take care of him.”

“Raymond and I will materialize a strategy to ensure the connection is severed,” Egon noted. “It’s crucial Somna is captured and stored.” He lowered his voice, nearly snarling. “I’ll handle Lars once that’s done.”

Winston’s grip on wheel subtly tightening, a random chill running down his spine. It wasn’t like Egon to talk in that certain manner, his overall demeanor had a faint hint of aggression coming through for a little while now. Winston lightly sighed - this whole werewolf thing better be over soon.

 

“Has Venkman inquired you on our relationship?” Spengler and Janine were at her apartment, he was sat at the end, Janine sitting on his legs, her back against the arm rest and legs stretched out; Egon was nose deep in research on Somna with Tobin’s Spirit Guide and a smaller version of Spate’s Catalogue. 

“When we took you to the hospital, I told him you wanted me to keep an eye on you and that was that,” she answered, “but he did ask again while you were still in recovery.”

“And?”

“He got bored and asked Ray within earshot if he knew anything.” She set down a Tolstoy novel. “Egon, I think it’s time we told them.”

“I’d like to keep the tension to hold a little longer, watch Venkman go mad with suspicion,” Egon had a small smirk on his lips, feeling a slight nudge from Janine. “Very well. Subtly, or blatantly obvious?”

“Well, what do you have in mind?” Janine move to sit up, gradually pulling Tobin’s Spirit Guide down. She straddled him, her thumb and index taking hold of his chin and brought his gaze up to meet hers. 

He stared at her over the rim of his glasses, the air around them still and rose in temperature. Spengler understood the wolf’s nature around Janine, it worked in tandem with his own human needs once they successfully bonded over the first two months, granted he was still approaching his feelings for Janine scientifically; the primal urgings gradually taught him to let go of his busy thoughts and enjoy the moment. Egon’s heart skipped a beat as he stared into Janine’s eyes, eventually getting lost in them. 

“Are you with me, Egon?” she softly asked him, seeing him space out. 

He gradually nodded, reaching up for a soft kiss on her lips. Egon broke off, his eyes darting across her face, calculating his next move as Janine sat patiently. She wanted him to make the calls, let him explore her body; Janine encouraged him, removing her sweater, her undershirt a low v-neck. She undid his tie and the top three buttons of his shirt, her hand slipping inside and rubbed at his collarbone and the crook of his neck. 

Egon planted another kiss on her lips, trailing down to her chin, nipping along her jawline, the book in his hand was tossed aside as Spengler allowed himself to let go of rational thought; he held Janine against him, burying his pecks and kisses into her neck and along her collarbone, gently biting. Her scent flooded his olfactory senses, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest that Janine felt and faintly shook against Egon. Her hands massaged and clutched at his shoulders and thick locks, she knew she’d be getting a few hickeys from the way he bit and sucked on her flesh. 

“Ouch,” she hissed, feeling a prick on her collarbone. 

Egon pulled back to see he bit too hard in one spot, a small pinhead sized dot of blood surfaced. He took a mental step back, pausing to see if Janine was okay. 

“I’m sorry,” he softly apologized. He rubbed his tongue over his canines, feeling they had grown slightly. Egon deeply sighed through his nose, pushing back unwanted subtle changes. His fangs retracted back to normal human size, nerves set at ease. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I won’t turn into a werewolf, will I?”

“No, you shouldn’t.” He paused, looking about the couch. “Would you … like to continue here or …”

He was cut off by Janine planting her lips against his, there was another deep kiss; Egon could smell her pheromones becoming stronger, pushing him over the edge into feral and primal needs. A growl rose from his chest, letting himself go and dove down towards the animalistic wants the beast in him desperately urged Egon to grasp on to. When Janine broke off, he answered back with a rough and passionate kiss, she leaned into him as they kept at it, biting each other’s lips. 

“Bed. Now,” she muttered into his ear, biting his ear lobe. 

 

Peter’s jaw would’ve dropped to the floor if it could. He was waiting like an impatient parent at Janine’s desk, wondering where the hell she was. He hadn’t seen Egon all morning, Ray nor Winston had seen him which made them all worry Lars had somehow snuck under their noses and taken the brains of the operation. 

Then he saw Janine come through the door … with Egon … and they were holding hands. And weird grin on their faces, especially Egon’s. Peter clapped and pumped on fist in the air. 

“I knew it! I knew it all along!” he exclaimed. Ray nearly bumped his head while working on the Ecto-1 when he heard Peter shout, rising from under the car to see Egon and Janine walk by holding hands – Stantz had a smirk on his face. Peter met the couple in the middle, rubbing his hands together. “I knew it. I always had an inkling for the past five months. You wild animals, you.” 

“Is Raymond here?” Egon inquired. 

“Right behind ya,” Stantz came round by Peter, his grin not going away. 

“I have some rather unusual but fascinating information,” he glanced at Janine, turning back to Ray’s gleeful stare. “It’s of a private matter, it would be best to discuss this elsewhere.”

“Cat’s out of the bag, huh,” Winston was heard behind the group, joining them with a smile on his lips. “Figured there was something going on, only a matter of time.”

“Yes, we’re dating, now if you’ll excuse me, I need to discuss with Ray about a sensitive matter,” Egon quickly pecked Janine on the lips, letting go of her hand and tugged on Ray’s jacket sleeve. 

“Jeez, Spengs looks like a schoolgirl wanting to gossip that she got to third base,” Peter watched the two scientists quickly disappear to the basement. He turned to Janine who was getting ready for the day at her desk. “So … how was he?”

“Is there something else you’d rather be doing?” Janine deflected his inquire with putting on her professional face. 

An audible but muffled ‘holy cow’ exclamation was heard from Ray in the basement. Peter glanced over at the basement entry and back to Janine. 

“I’m bored, and based upon what Ray just said, I think something magical happened last night,” Peter leaned on the desk, a smirk on his lips.

“I know what you can do,” Winston came beside him. “You can help take stock on our inventory. Don’t bother Janine, let her enjoy her day.” He started to steer Peter towards the stairs leading up, tuning his head over his shoulder. “Have a good one, Janine.”

She was thankful Winston shooed Peter away from her. She felt sore from the night before, as did Egon. When the morning came it was maybe the quietest morning she ever had. It was calm, they cuddled and shared soft kisses. She’s never seen Egon that content and peaceful even as she was the first to wake up and watch him sleep; he’d been gentle with her that morning in bed and on the drive over, remembering how powerful he was in bed. 

As Ray and Egon came up the stairs, Ray still had that grin on his face, and Egon let out a deep satisfied sigh; she heard that sigh the night before and in the morning after. A corner of her eyebrow perked up, shrugging her shoulders. She was an open person already, she didn’t give it much attention and let it go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winston voices his concerns. Subtle changes to Egon's demeanor keeps everyone on their toes. Lars acts and kidnaps Janine. Egon attempts to stop a transformation outside of the full moon which raises alarms.

“So, what do we do about Somna? Will the casting rite work on a guy like Lars?” Winston asked, dumping another trap into the containment unit from a busy day.

“Spengler and I suspect it won’t work, seeing as how both host and parasite work together and Lars was willing to let Somna live inside him,” Ray set the empty traps on the nearby table. “Egon speculated we can use a trap, set it to a certain frequency akin to the spook’s, open it and when the meter hits that point, close it and Somna will have been ripped from him.”

“That sounds pretty tricky,” Winston handed an empty trap. “If it takes Lars with it, would Egon still be a werewolf?”

“Well, we are passing the fifth month, which is what we wanted as a time frame,” Ray leaned against the containment unit, “I’ve done some digging around, there’s a chance he’ll be completely human should that happen. But it’s Somna we want.”

“Egon was saying that the other day,” Winston put the last of the traps in. “But he sounded dead serious on taking care of Lars himself once Somna is extracted.” 

“There have been one or two occasions he’s been a little … feisty,” Ray searched for a light term for some of the attitude changes. “But after what that bastard made us do to Spengs, I wouldn’t mind giving Lars a piece of my mind.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, have you two got enough information on werewolves for your tome?” Winston leaned against the bar facing the containment unit. “Five months I can take, but if it’s gonna be more than that …”

“I understand you’re concerns, Z, but …”

“No, buts, Ray, give me a straight answer,” Winston sounded terse. “How long?”

Stantz let out a deep sigh, hands on his hips. “A year,” he mumbled. 

“A whole year? Ray, are you not concerned that one of these nights, Egon’s gonna turn on you? I’ve seen what wild animals do when they’ve been raised by humans. I had an uncle who raised a grizzly bear when it was a cub,” Winston pushed himself from the bar, facing his colleague. “That bear one day attacked him and killed him when it was fully grown. A wild animal is still a wild animal, Ray. And Egon? Sure, he’s a werewolf, he’ll be himself during the day, but once he changes during the full moon, he won’t recognize you or Pete, or me, and he can turn on us like that.” He snapped his fingers, snapping Ray to his attention. 

“Z, you do realize we have the darts in case that does happen,” Ray flatly stated. 

“I know that,” Winston approached him, “what I’m trying to say is, you can do your research, but don’t get too friendly or carried away. Protect yourself. Even if it means your guys’ data collecting abruptly comes to the end.”

“Raymond, I’ve located where on the meter we need to set it at to extract Somna,” Egon was heard at the top of the stairs, making his way down to Ray. 

Ray glanced up at Spengler, turning his attention back to Winston, biting his lower lip. 

“Something to think about, alright?” Winston gave a pat on Ray’s shoulder, heading for the stairs. 

As soon as Winston was out of sight, Ray leaned over the bar, his worried stare meeting Egon’s usual stoic gaze. 

“How much did you hear?” Ray asked. 

“Right after you said you’d want to give Gustavson a piece of your mind,” Spengler approached him, trap and connected meter in hand. “I want to assure you, Raymond, that the chances of me becoming feral at this stage is drastically slim. My counterpart and I have been coming to an understanding, outside of the full moon. Even if the year end date is an exaggeration, turning feral would be the absolute least of our worries.”

Ray’s brows furrowed together, surprise in his eyes. “It talks to you even outside the moon cycle?” He stood up. “Like … you two … actually talk to each other on a daily basis.”

“More like an acknowledgement, but in a sense, yes, we talk to each other,” Egon corrected him. 

“Two separate entities only to become one during the full moon, I’ve never thought of it like that,” Ray seemed to cheer up hearing this bit of information. 

“On … one occasion, we merged outside of the cycle …,” Egon gradually blushed, stealing a glance up at the door. 

“Well, we got that part logged,” Ray smirked. 

However, going into the sixth month, there has been a subtle almost noticeable change with the physicist’s demeanor. It was how he carried himself; he was lighter on his feet, quicker than the others. Though this was in part to Egon’s morning runs he took up two months ago. If he became stumped on an equation, he’d become easily frustrated and throw an eraser at the board; there was one morning he broke a half completed piece of equipment out of the blue, sending everyone within earshot of the crash to investigate.

Egon let out a shaky breath, checking in on himself and the wolf; wondering why he ever did such a thing, he looked to his right hand. It was singed from heated metal, blisters had formed on it. He staggered over to the sink, running cold water over it, hissing at the pain. Ray cautiously approached his colleague, placed a hand on Egon’s shoulder only for the physicist to shrug it off. The human kept the wolf in line, calming down and sighed out. 

Ray once again put a comforting hand on Egon, inspecting the damage done to the scientist’s hand. He helped dress it, proceeding to pick up what parts had crash landed onto the floor; Ray caught a wary stare of Winston who stood close to the door as if Egon could change any second and he’d be out the door ready to grab a dart gun. The wolf inside sensed the gaze, Egon’s brown eyes landing on Winston; Zeddemore took in a sharp deep breath through his nose when he saw something change in Spengler’s eyes. It wasn’t the man staring at him. It was the beast. Winston had seen that stare before backpacking in the wilderness when he was out of the Corps; bears, mountain lions, and yes, a wolf or two that had come across his path. 

Fight or flee? Was there to be an understanding between them? Or would it mean death? He’s stared down the eyes of a predator before, ghostly or not. For it to come in the form of a colleague, a brother in arms – it frightened Winston to his core. Especially from one who doesn’t display signs of aggression so easily or any at all. Peter saw the intense eye contact Egon and Winston were having, time to intervene. 

“Say, Winston, buddy, you mind running to the nearest bodega and grab us some Twinkies, some bandages, and I dunno, maybe a Playboy,” Peter ushered Winston out of the lab and into the hall. 

Egon, or more so the wolf, watched Winston be escorted. The human inside came back, leaving the wolf to sit in its usual silence. Spengler broke out of the short trance and went back to helping Ray with cleaning up the mess, subsequently going over to the spectrometer and put the colander device with all the wires and electrodes on his head, switching the screen on. Sure enough, he looked human … mostly. He had more canine features to him than before. 

“Ray, come look at this,” his voice nearly cracked, fascinated and almost fearful of this transformation.

Stantz couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Egon … you’re … the two of you. We’re only six months in and there’s been significant changes, that’s why. Melding of the entities into one complete being.” 

“I … I have to admit, these past weeks have been difficult,” Spengler quietly noted. “I fear I’m nearing the feral stages of this experiment.” 

“Irritability, first stage, though in its infancy,” Ray nodded, sighing out. “Should we … call it quits?”

Spengler took a moment to contemplate, staring at the screen that contained him and the wolf in a hybrid image. He took a deep breath through his nose before finally answering. 

“No.”

Ray was wary of Spengler’s answer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. To carry this on to the last stage is crucial, month six is when the stages begin. To say by the eight or tenth month, I’m composed as normal during the day opposed to my other form during the full moon I am much more than what I have been previously. Aggressive, a need for mindless killing. The stereotype of a werewolf.”

“And we want to avoid that. We better take measurements next week, if there’s any significant changes.” 

“Morning, guys,” Janine called from downstairs, coming in for work. 

“We should also take precautions and take you outside city limits so -,” before Ray could finish, Spengler had steadily made his way out the door and to Janine’s desk. He sighed, glancing at the broken equipment. “What are we going to do with you, Egon.”

“Oh, good, Egon you’re here,” Janine saw her lover approach, noticing the purpose in his steps which caught her by faint surprise. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out tonight. Hoping you guys aren’t out on a call.” 

Egon took note that the wolf was very eager to see Janine, straightening himself and did his best to hide his bandaged hand. 

He softly cleared his throat. “I see no objection to it. Though if we are, I would suggest we meet somewhere close. I don’t think the guys will find a problem if I spend time with you after a case.” 

Janine gave a small smile. “Wonderful.” That thought again came itching back in her mind, she needed to ask. “Egon, I was … wondering. Once you’re back to, well, completely human. Will things between us be the same?”

Spengler contemplated the question, a corner of his brow perked up. “It has crossed my mind once or twice,” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “There is the possibility that my drive at its current state will not be so … obvious, only for it to show when we’re alone.”

“You’ll still … love me, though, won’t you?”

Egon was subtly taken aback by that question. “Of course,” he faintly grinned to show that he still cares.

The phone harshly rang before Janine could leap into his arms and kiss him. 

 

It was nearing midnight when the boys had finished a bust. Spengler had met up with Janine at the nearest corner coffee shop, Peter giving Egon a wink and a ‘good luck’ before the others climbed into Ecto-1 and drove back to the firehouse. A stroll through Central Park was primarily on the agenda; Egon had unzipped his jumpsuit halfway, tying the sleeves around his waist, Janine’s and his hand were intertwined. 

They had reached Rat Rock when four young men in dirty clothing approached them, one of them wielded a switchblade. 

“Okay, hand it over,” one with a scraggily goatee demanded. 

The wolf inside growled, Spengler moved in front of Janine. 

“I said,” the man stepped out of the shadows more, a light haze of green over his eyes, “hand her over.” His voice dropped to a deep growl as he spoke, the red flags going up in Spengler’s mind. Lars. 

“Coward,” Egon snarled. “Are you scared of me?”

“Hardly,” Lars spoke through the junkie. “Foot soldiers are extremely useful to my needs. You are sorely mistaken, Egon Spengler. I am powerful than you’ll ever know.”

“Empty threat coming from a man who should already be afraid of who he’s up against. You know what my colleagues and I can accomplish,” Egon stayed where he was, keeping Janine close behind him with one hand clasped with hers. “I suspect Somna is aware of what we are capable of, knowing firsthand.”

The junkie’s face curled into a snarl, Lars remembering when the Ghostbusters found the exorcism rite to rid Somna. Having enough, a short roar escaped from the possessed junkie; two other muggers came from behind, ripping Janine from Egon. She cried his name, Spengler turned around to reach for her before two bullets sounded from a snub nose pistol; two sharp stabs of pain entered his left shoulder and just right of his spine in the middle. 

“Egon!” Janine shouted, being carried away by the possessed muggers. She struggled and kicked with all her strength before one of the junkies came up with a cloth soaked in chloroform, knocking her unconscious. They climbed into an old truck, speeding off the New York streets and out of the city limits. 

Apart from the bullet wounds, pain flared up in his entire anatomy that Egon never felt before; his eyes squeezed tight from the intense wracking of his bones and muscles. His thoughts attempted to stop a transformation, the wolf wanting to change and pursue the perpetrators. He crumpled to the ground, seeing fur barely sprouting on his hands.

“Not … now,” he growled against the growing pains. “We need to get back and have the others help.” 

Another wave of agony washed over him, stifling a scream; Egon staggered to his own two feet, the adrenaline overwhelming him as he took off towards the firehouse in Tribeca. His arrival startled Winston who had taken the night watch should Egon come back the same night; he saw the haggard state Spengler was in, his brows drawn together. 

“What happened?” he met Egon over by Ecto. 

“Janine … taken …,” Egon managed to get out first, a flare up of pain caused him to collapse to his knees. Winston caught him from falling over, taking note of the bullet wound in his shoulder and feeling the other one near his spine. 

“Shit, man, this ain’t good,” Winston inspected the damage. He called over his shoulder. “Guys! Wake up! Egon needs help!”

Ray was still up, reading over extra material he gotten from his bookstore; he slid down the pole, rushing over to them. He saw the dark circles under Egon’s eyes and the pale complexion, sweat glistened on his forehead. Spengler grimaced, feeling the wolf bash at the doors wanting out with another wave of muscle and bone painfully shifting between normal to bulging. Ray took note of this, cautiously stepping in. 

“Spengler, can you talk?” Ray knelt to his level. 

Egon had gone silent, heavy and raspy pants sounded from the physically exhausted man; he stifled another scream from the terrible sensation of forced changing, fighting back to stop them. Various stages of rage and fury dominated his mind, the wolf’s own anger adding fuel to the burning fire within. Ray was becoming extremely concerned from not getting a reaction from his colleague, he gulped hard. 

“Spengs? Can you hear me?” he softly asked. 

The growing pains had dialed down to mild pain, the physicist not speaking as his gaze lifted to Ray’s worried glance. Stantz gulped once again, faintly shaking as he saw the gold hue starting to come through Egon’s brown eyes until they became the wolf’s natural gold color. Ray’s heart pounded in his chest and ears, gradually pulling Winston away. Zeddemore was thinking the same thing as Ray stepped in his place; he ran to grab the first aid kit for tweezers and gauze. 

“Easy, Egon, okay?” Ray calmly instructed, placing a hand between him and Spengler while he gradually knelt. He did his best to keep his heavy breathing and heart rate calm. “Deep breaths. I need you to tell me, best you can, what happened. Where’s Janine?”

Egon’s human form faintly shook, the gold eyes of the wolf gazing back at Ray with silent fury. After what seemed like an eternity, Spengler finally answered. 

“Gone,” his normal baritone replied, Egon’s eyes never did change back to his usual brown. “Janine’s … gone. Lars took her.”

Ray slowly nodded. He helped Egon to his feet, taking him to the small sofa in Peter’s office. He’s keeping track of every nuance Spengler has in this state of mind, it was nearly frightening to witness this phenomenon. Winston came back with the supplies needed, Peter had stumbled down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. 

“How’s Scruffy doing?” he mumbled, coming into his office. 

“Hard to tell, he’s been nonverbal mostly,” Ray crossed his arms. “I don’t know how he’ll be in the morning.” 

Winston gingerly rolled up Egon’s shirt for access to extract the bullets, the man before him eerily still; Peter noticed Spengler’s eyes were completely gold, they were staring off into space, and that Egon had not flinched or grimaced while Winston carefully removed the bullets. 

“Did they have a falling out?” he lowly asked.

“Lars took Janine,” Ray answered, not sure if Peter was joking or being serious. His reply was enough for Peter to get the picture. Venkman sat in front of Egon, placing his hands gently on his colleague’s shoulders; a small shiver ran down his spine as he was met with a pair of gold eyes. Peter took a deep breath, wanting to try something out, though knowing he’s shit at it, but it was worth a shot. 

“Scruffy, Egon, whoever it is in there that I’m now addressing, I need you to take several deep breaths for me, okay? And concentrate on my voice and my words. Can you do that for me?” 

He internally was relieved when the being in front of him took deep breaths; Winston glanced over Egon’s shoulder to Peter, knowing what he was trying to do. He had the bullets removed and was dressing the wounds. Peter put one finger in front of Spengler’s vision, and moved it back and forth. 

“Watch my finger, focus on my words, keep taking those deep breaths,” Peter instructed, putting on a calm voice. “We need Egon, okay? You need to sleep, pal. We need Egon back. Relax, buddy. Deeper breaths, deeper relaxation. Feel your eyelids get heavy with each wave of relaxation.”

Winston shot a worried glance to Ray if Peter knows what he’s doing, Ray shrugged, but was interested in the work Venkman was doing to get Egon back to normal. Peter saw whoever was in Egon’s head was struggling to fight him, wishing he had a sedative handy. 

“I need you to focus on relaxing, Scruffy. The deeper the breath, the more you relax,” he instructed. “The deeper you breathe, the more you relax, the more heavy your eyelids get. We need you to relax.” Two minutes had passed, finally he was getting progress when Spengler’s eyes fluttered shut. “There we go, keep on breathing. Deeper breaths, deeper relaxation.” He placed his other hand back on a shoulder. 

Winston had joined Ray behind Peter, watching with the same amazement that Peter’s hypnosis was working. 

“Deep breaths, deep relaxation,” Peter lowered his voice to a gentle tone. “I’m going to count from ten to one, and when I reach one, I will snap my fingers, and you’ll sleep.” 

Giving it a few moments to sink in, he started counting down from ten. “Three, deeper and deeper, two, almost there, and,” he snapped his fingers, “one. Sleep.”

Since Egon was leaning heavily towards Peter during the induction, most of his weight ended up sending Venkman backwards with Spengler’s dead weight. Winston and Ray got Egon off Peter and laid the limp scientist down along the couch. 

“I think I got it from here, guys,” Peter whispered. 

“I’ll stay up,” Ray mumbled. “I need to record this for our data.”

“Have a dart gun handy in case anything happens,” Winston whispered, noticing Ray’s face faintly drop. “Night, guys.”

Peter went back to focusing on their patient. “I need to speak to Egon,” he firmly spoke in a low tone. “Egon Spengler. Can we speak to Egon? Are you there, Egon?”  
A minute of silence passed. A sleepy sounding response came from the scientist.

“I’m here, Peter … Janine’s gone.”

“Ray told me about it.”

“There’s more … about what actually happened,” Egon mumbled. “Lars wasn’t there, he was using muggers. I saw they each had a haze of green over their eyes. Two came from behind and grabbed Janine, I turned to reach for her, but I was injured by gunshot. They disappeared while I was facing excruciating pain, the other wanted to come out and pursue them.”

“And that’s not a good sign, is it, a forced transformation,” Peter inquired.

“Precisely,” Egon continued to talk in a sleepy manner. “A forced shift outside of the full moon cycle leads to rapid succession into a feral state. If I had not told the other that we need help and not rush into this, I might not have come back for a while. It would be hard to say for how long.”

“And did you want to change and go after them?” Peter leaned forward.

“I have to admit I did,” Egon replied. Peter and Ray gave each other worried glances. “Though the other was reluctant but open to getting help, we ran from Central Park to here.”

“Well, we know where to find Lars, so Janine would definitely be there with him,” Peter nodded. “But we need you to be at top performing level, Egon, until the full moon. Can you do that?”

“I will do my best, though the other will try to interfere, and I fear I won’t entirely be myself. Consider it a warning,” Egon’s voice faintly dropped, Peter gulped, giving Ray a concerned glance which his fellow Ghostbuster also gave. “Do not, under any circumstance, use the synthetic wolfsbane on me. Not until mine and Ray’s research is complete.”

“We got your word, and you have our word,” Peter nodded. “Fair enough.” Ray came around to Peter’s right side, crouching. 

“Egon, it’s Ray. I just want to say I’m concerned for you. We all are. After we dispose of Somna from Lars, you’re going to want to finish him for what he’s done. Unless you have a vial of werewolf blood stashed away somewhere, are you sure you’re of sound mind and body to continue research?”

“I’m aware that when I kill Lars, I will be completely human. However, if we keep him subdued, we should be able to continue until we have enough data.” Egon paused. “Though, I realize the repercussions I could cause if we carried this out. I think it’s time for the research to end.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Ray nodded. 

“Thanks, Egon,” Peter shared his relief. “I need you and Scruffy to sleep peacefully for once in your life, okay? If we’re finished here? We’ll talk more in the morning, yeah?”

“Agreed,” Egon sleepily replied.

“Then I need you to keep taking deep breaths, and I’ll count from ten to one. At one, go into a deep sleep, and by morning, you’ll be refreshed and ready to work on our game plan. And I want Egon to be the one piloting this body, okay?” Peter started from ten and worked his way down. “Three, just about there, two say good night, and one,” he snapped his fingers, “sleep.” 

Egon went completely limp than he previously was; Ray gave Peter a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. Venkman was damn proud of himself. He never thought he’d be able to hypnotize Egon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the length of this chapter, hard to know when to cut off and start a new chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spengler finds the wolf's needs distracting. Janine and the demon met. Ray finds a disturbing piece of information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an interlude if you wanna call it that. Shit's going down soon.

Lars slightly cocked his head to the side as he looked on the unconscious female human; this was Spengler’s mate, he could smell the stench all over her. The large battle-scarred werewolf let out a small growl, wondering what to do with her. Make her for sport? No, she probably wouldn’t be much fun to chase. He stared at her with a passive green eye, Janine stirred; one thought came to mind that would work for his benefit – turn her. 

Yes, of course. To turn her and have Lars put his influence in her mind, and when they come for her, it will be a bloodbath and he’ll get away! He internally grinned, Somna was pleased with this plan. Lars waited for the moment to strike; Janine gradually came to, looking about her surroundings with confusion. Her eyes landed on a rather large wolf with one eye, and a scarred face. 

She went to scramble away put Lars sunk his teeth into her calf and held on. The infectious bite spread quickly, Somna linking Lars with Janine; the werewolf let go, reaching into the depths of Janine’s mind, pulling her down as he took control. She shivered, feeling a spike drive through her eyeball and straight into her brain; her eyes hazed over with a light green hue, Janine whined and moaned as the bite made her body wrack in pain though no transformation came. Lars let out another short growl, making his dominating pose over her, his newest victim easily submitting. 

Lars wickedly smiled internally. My, my, this was going to be fun. 

 

Egon let out a soft grunt as he was coming to waking life; he was still in his uniform, the boots taken off. There was a slight stinging in his back, puzzled for a moment as to why and soon remembered what had happened last night. He sat straight up, nearly tripping over his own two feet to grab his boots. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Peter asked, blocking the doorway of the bunk room. He leaned against the frame, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. 

“Janine. It’s paramount that we get her before Lars causes harm on her, she’s in danger, Peter,” he quickly tied the laces, wincing now and then from the bullet holes on his back. 

“We need a game plan, remember? We can’t go barging in,” Peter approached Spengler, getting the man to look at his finger that Venkman moved back and forth. “Deep breaths, okay?” He snapped his fingers. “Sleep for a bit, will ya?”

“Nice try, Venkman. That only fully worked once,” Egon scoffed, rising and exited the bunk room.

“And there goes my credibility as a prom night hypnotist,” Peter sighed.

Ray caught Egon making a bee line for the stairs. “Hey, Spengs, I found something searching exorcism rites that could be useful.”

“Sounds great, Ray, I’ll look at it later,” Egon took the first two steps on the stairs before stopping himself. What was he doing? This is why he never lets emotions get the better of situations, they lead to poor planning and deem the operation a failure. The wolf inside was starting to become a burden. Spengler needed level headed, clear thinking, not bull headedness and irrational passions leading the charge.

Egon backed up on the stairs, making his way over to Stantz. “I apologize. I wasn’t thinking clearly. What did you find?”

Ray ushered him to the table where dozens of books lay strewn about, opened and bookmarked. He pulled one tome, leafing through the pages to find the right one; the inscription he laid a finger on had a colorful and detailed drawing of a demon or ghost leaving a man’s body. 

“This one is for separating a parasitic symbiote from its host, unwillingly to be frank,” Ray started. “If the traps need an extra boost, we can use this. My Latin is a bit rusty, but it looks manageable.” 

“I’ll calibrate the traps to Somna’s frequency.” Egon paused, looking over the Latin scripture absentmindedly. “It’s getting extremely difficult for me to focus to the task at hand. Is this what it’s like for you? Passions running high in the heat of the moment? I don’t mean to sound brash in my inquiry.”

“Just shows you care deeply,” Ray shrugged. “That and it proves you’re not a robot.” 

Egon gave a small smirk, exhaling a huff through his nose. “I’ll be thankful to be able to back to normal.”

“Nothing wrong with getting passionate about something, you just don’t show that side of you often,” Ray lightly grinned, putting a hand on Egon’s good shoulder, giving it a faint squeeze. “We’ll get her, Spengs. Don’t worry.”

 

_She awoke in her apartment, but things were out of place; Janine sat up on the couch, pulling the blanket off and rose. She studied the space, feeling as though she really was home, but everything felt extremely off. It made her uncomfortable._

_“Janine,” a distorted voice surrounded her._

_Janine glanced around the living room, looking for the source of the sound. A misty form appeared before her, it took on the form of Egon; Janine stared at the specter with an annoyed glare._

_“Isn’t there a different form you can take on?” she crossed her arms._

_“Not satisfactory?” the ghostly form asked._

_“I’d rather you not take on the shape of someone I hold very dear to me. Bit cliché of something like you to make a person cloud their judgement by being someone that person very much loves, I’ve read and seen it too many times,” Janine dryly replied._

_The mist went back to its shapeless self. “Then perhaps, mortal, you will see my true form?” The apartment disappeared around her, leaving the empty void cold. The fog shifted into a being with a human torso accompanied by two pairs of extra arms, the lower half of a snake, wings of a bat, and the head of a barn owl grotesquely featuring mandibles. Janine subtly shuddered at the creature’s form, keeping her breathing calm._

_“I am Somna, demon of the mind. I bend feeble mortals to my will, influence them, control them. Such moldable clay, the human mind is. Playthings I enjoy toying with,” the demon chuckled. “Does my presence frighten you, human?”_

_“Not the scariest thing I’ve seen, to be honest,” Janine shrugged it off. “I’ve seen worse.”_

_“But your mate has seen worse far beyond me, I sensed from him before I was rudely removed from him. Gozer … Vigo … and so many others after them. Every single one of those mortals you share a bond with has a shared experience, I have seen their fears, their hopes, and I have twisted them, tortured them while they were in my grasp.” Somna slithered forward, towering over Janine. “But know this, human, I am not as easy as the others. My host and I have an inseparable bond, we work as one. A symbiotic relationship. We are bound ‘til the earth has dried, and life has perished. We will ascend as gods once more for generations to come.”_

_“Are you done grandstanding? I’d rather you leave me alone in peace.” Janine had enough of the yammering, she’s heard it a million times from two bit demigods and old Babylonian gods who think they can rule over everyone. “And know this, too, you’re going to get what’s coming to you. Don’t underestimate the guys. You’ll be sorry you did.”_

__

__

_Somna softly growled in annoyance. Janine was suddenly lifted into the air, her body held tight by invisible rope, her breathing becoming restricted; a halo of fire formed around Somna’s head, his eyes glowed bright green, boring into Janine’s now fearful gaze._

_“Foolish mortal,” Somna’s velvet sounding tone changed drastically to a thousand voices, distorted and ear piercing. The demon let out a small chuckle. “Your mate gave me the same fearful stare. He would have proved to be of extreme use to us, had part me not been exorcised. But soon, you will all be accolades on the altar of Somna. The old gods will rise and rule over the earth as we have once done before. I leave you to your personal hell, Janine Melnitz.”_

_Somna disappeared in a gradual wisp of smoke, Janine was still floating and frozen in suspension; what played out would repeat itself, haunting her visions even if she closed her eyes. His jumpsuit tattered and bloodied, body limp on the ground; deep lacerations and gashes decorated his body, glasses askew on his face. A never ending river of blood gushing from his torn open throat, the liquid pooling around him. Heavy and raspy breathing came from his becoming lifeless form, a weak hand reaching out to her._

_“Janine … help me …,” he would utter, standing above him was a werewolf with a red tint in her fur. The beast bit down on his neck, a horrifying ‘crack’ sounded, breaking his neck._

_And so, the image reappeared, time after time. Janine desperately wanted to escape from the nightmare, to wake from it all. She felt every breath, every neck snap with each passing moment it formed before her. Her cries and begs to make it stop went unheard._

 

Ray sat at the desk in the bookstore late at night, scouring for more information on Somna that he might’ve missed, better to go more prepared than needed to be. He happened upon a random entry of a journal by someone who was under Lars’ control and the aftermath; real gruesome entry, murdered his lover of five years, and yet after being released from Somna he had disturbing visions. Ray himself can’t shake off the horrifying images Somna had put into his head while he was controlled that night they jumped Egon, he spaced out, remembering the split second it would’ve taken to tear Spengler’s throat out. If Lars wanted to leave an impression of guilt and having to live with it, he succeeded, even if Egon had forgiven him. 

“Need anything else, Dr. Stantz?” Kylie Griffin, the goth employee brought Ray back to earth. 

“No, Kylie, thanks for your help,” he gave a small smile. 

“You might want to smudge yourself, Doc. You got some bad vibes still comin’ off of you,” she grabbed her coat on the way out. “Have a good night!” 

Ray was beginning to think Kylie practices on the side apart from help run the store. He sighed, closing the tome he had open. Double checking werewolf lore before closing up the shop, he somehow missed a passage in one book. Upon reading it, his brows furrowed faintly before smoothing out, worry written on his face. 

“We might be in deep trouble,” he said to himself aloud.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray informs Egon of the disturbing find. Round two: Gustavson vs Spengler underway, but first - an exorcism (next chapter)

The week had passed, and the full moon had begun its cycle. Spengler’s demeanor had returned to his normal character as the week gone on, which gave the impression of the calm before the storm to everyone around him. That morning of the full moon he awoke as if he was completely human, the wolf had gone silent the entire week and today it seemed like there wasn’t another being inhabiting his body. Egon made a mental note of this, stretching in his bed subsequently rising. 

“Egie, I need to speak with you for a sec,” Ray said from the bunk room door. Stantz had been up since five that morning, restless from the night before. He’d gone over the data and notes from their research up until this moment in time, the excerpt he had found last night fresh in his mind. 

Winston had heard the sound of shuffling feet and Ray mumbled to Spengler about a disturbing find; feigning he was still asleep, he waited until both men had walked a bit aways from the door to creep out of bed and position himself close enough to hear. 

“You ever thought about the possibility of you not becoming human in the event after Lars’ potential death? Say, you kill him yourself, common lore says the victim turns back completely human once that’s done,” Ray started, “I found a passage saying that in some cases, though rare, the victim might not turn back once the originator of the curse is deceased. That is, if said instigator was born as a wolf naturally, which in Lars’ case, he is.”

“As opposed to the source of the curse not being born one,” Spengler muttered, getting a small nod from Ray. He deeply sighed through his nose, putting a finger to his lips. “Then it’s agreed we end our research after tonight.” 

“If we get to Lars in time. Who knows what that bastard has up his sleeves,” Ray sighed, pausing. “I … I say we wait ‘til tomorrow night. We need to know how far down the feral rabbit hole you get tonight.”

Winston furrowed his brows at this, mouthing ‘what the hell, Ray?’ Egon perked up a corner of his brow, the idea ruminating in his mind.

“We’d have to be cautious should we proceed,” Spengler noted. “It would be best to keep me inside for the night. However, we are well prepared to confront Gustavson tonight. To risk injury and greater harm to everyone, it would be in best interest to refrain from observing me one last time. If tonight is any indication what I will be like, please consider that I may, if unintentional and accidentally, kill you all and our work of trapping Somna is proved futile.” 

Winston held his breath, Ray furrowed his brows subsequently smoothing them out, letting out a sigh. 

“You’re right, Spengsy,” Stantz muttered. “I’m second guessing myself, but I agree, we’re more than just well equipped. Let’s trap that sucker tonight.” 

Winston shakily and silently let out his breath. Though that didn’t go unnoticed by Egon. 

 

“You sure we should let Egon go by himself ahead of us?” Peter was a little fuzzy on the plan, granted he woke up around noon and it has now been a couple hours since he had risen. “Explain what would happen if he rode along with us up to Rotterdam?”

“We’d all die and never get the chance to take care of that frozen sonofabitch for good,” Winston simply put it, loading packs into the hearse. Peter paused for a moment, raising his brows in agreement. Spengler had already left New York using a secondary vehicle, a pickup truck labeled Ecto-5, armed with nothing but a spare set of clothing; Venkman understood the man needed space ahead of the big battle, but didn’t think Spengs required this amount of time, it wasn’t even dusk. 

“Spengler is going to call us halfway to our destination,” Ray noted, “that’ll give us time to get there and secure everything. We made an arsenal of those darts for enough to take out about sixty or so.” He pulled out a small case that contained a dart pistol for one load. “And this one specialized for Spengler.” 

“You think Scruffy’s gonna be able to recognize us?” Peter fidgeted with a clip of darts. “He’s starting to grow on me. Would’ve been nice to keep him around as a mascot.” 

The phone rang in the firehall, Ray glanced at Venkman and Winston before jogging over to answer it; the other two Ghostbusters saw the serious look Stantz had as he listened. He gave a swift nod and hung up, marching back over to Ecto-1. 

“That was Spengler. Let’s go.”

 

Dusk had passed and the stars were brighter in the sky as the moon was starting to peak amongst the tree tops; Egon sat in the cab of the truck, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. He had gotten glances from a few people back in the town as he briefly stopped to phone headquarters, and not welcoming ones either. Spengler deeply breathed through his nose, tightly gripping the steering wheel of the parked truck to the point his knuckles turned white; there was a shiver of discomfort spreading across his body, he sucked air in through his teeth as his lips twisted in faint agony. 

Another blow of pain wracked his body, Spengler attempting to keep the wolf at bay; he kept note of the intensity of the aching, it was significantly painful than previous transformations. Perhaps his awareness of his other half was a factor, knowing it being there and letting the changes to happen made the alterations mildly uncomfortable but somewhat bearable. There was an excruciating crack sounding in his back, Spengler let out a cry of pain, the ache spreading up. He flung the truck door open, falling to the cold autumn ground as the agony grew intensely. 

White hot pain flared up across his frame, eyes shutting tight as Spengler’s face twisted into a snarl of discomfort, cries of agony making his throat hoarse. Bones cracked to a powerful degree of hurt, muscles contorting and shifted along with them. His features distorted to canine appearances, the muzzle grew, teeth sharpened to pearly white fangs; clothes tore as the body grew in mass, fur growing from every pore, fingernails resembling claws. Egon was becoming lost in his mind, the man fading from the foreground soon no longer existing as the beast within charged forth with malice, hellbent on its agenda of revenge. 

The aching and discomfort had ceased, the werewolf threw back its head in a deep howl; in the thickest area of the reserve, Lars had heard the cry, rising to his feet and answered back, internally grinning with delight. The black beast picked up a returning howl in the distance, his head and ears swiveling towards the direction knowing who it was, a snarl formed on his lips as he took off running on the leaf covered soft ground, large prints forming depressions in the slightly muddy earth.

 

Ecto-1 crawled to a halt, the wipers brushing the light rain off the windshield, its lights trained on a pickup truck sitting by the entrance to Plotter Kill Preserve. The driver side door left wide open, torn and wet clothes lay on the ground; Ray put the gears into park, his heart pounding in his chest. Winston was the first to get out, carefully laying the shredded clothing back inside the cab of the truck and shut the door. Ray and Peter were close behind, proton packs switched on, a hip holster for the dart pistol securely held the loaded weapon; Winston only had a bandolier of darts and a rifle strapped onto his back, the same pistol holster snug around his leg. The mega trap fitted on his back, its power strong enough to contain Somna, the regular traps couldn’t withstand the magnitude the demon has. 

Flashlights spotted the large wolf hind paw prints and even larger hand-like front dips in the earth, Ray mentally taking note how large Spengler must’ve reached, thinking back to their notes, these prints were now a quarter if not half the size from the initial transformation. 

“How big you think he is now?” Winston nonchalantly asked as they stared at the prints. 

“I’d say the size of a fully grown male polar bear,” Ray replied, taking a slim camera from a pocket on his flight suit, the flash illuminating the depressions. “Maybe even slightly larger.” 

“Let’s hope Scruffy behaves himself when we show up,” Venkman quipped, nerves setting in at the image of a slightly larger than a polar bear werewolf that he calls ‘colleague’ came to mind.

“I hope you’re right, Venkman,” Ray switched on a body cam hooked to his pack, a pen flashlight brightened the path before them. “Look sharp, boys. It’ll get nasty.” 

 

The black wolf locked into Lars’ scent, picking up other smells from the larger wolf’s pack; one particular aroma came to his nose that made the werewolf stop in his tracks. His mate’s scent was among the dozens of other fragrances and it set a wariness in him. A shuffle in the brush ahead caught the wolf’s attention, his ears turned towards the source, twitching and swiveling, gold eyes attentive. He took one step before freezing once more, something seemed off on the trail in front of him. The beast lowly growled subsequently wandering off the path and took to the wilder woods, continuing his trot towards his goal. 

He was halfway to his target when an arrow whizzed past his ear, the werewolf looking back to where it was shot from, making a run for it. He zig-zagged through the trees, his tactic a challenge for whoever it was hunting him; thinking he had lost them, the wolf skidded to a halt. Two arrows were shot from the dark, one pierced his left thigh, the other embedded in his left shoulder. The beast roared, breaking for the trail instead of opting for the ones less traveled, one last arrow lodged itself next to the one in his thigh before the assault ceased. He took a moment to hopefully remove the arrows, however their points were manufactured to not be pulled out so easily, the shafts were then broken a few inches from the wound. 

The black wolf snarled, ignoring the pain as he pressed on; he had gotten a few feet ahead on the trail when his right hind leg was caught in a bear trap. The beast yowled from the teeth sinking into him, pulling the stake from the ground as he limped two feet, being careful to try and pry the trap off. The mouth of the contraption snapped shut as he freed himself and scurried off. He was sure to be cautious as he was nearing the glade, keeping to the trees. He sniffed the air for Gustavson’s scent, he was close; the werewolf crept along the tree line, opting for a hiding spot behind two boulders. As he neared it, his foot set off another trap; netting enveloped the wolf, hoisting him nearly ten feet in the air. 

He writhed in the confines of the net, attempting to tear at it when a couple sharp jabs from a pointed end of a long stick interrupted him. 

“Hey, don’t be doing that now,” a gruff voice with an underlying growly Minnesotan accent spoke to the wolf. The net slowly spun around, the wolf spotted three men in hunting clothes, all had poles with hunting knives strapped to the ends. One men jabbed the beast in the back, the wolf snarling and twisted in the confines of his prison. 

“Easy, now,” the same man spoke to Spengler, his eyes hazed over with a vibrant green. “I assumed you noticed I have the entire town under my thumb when you came through earlier. You know, I’d come by to say hello, but you know how it is. You’re being hunted, you’d rather flee the countryside for greener fields to restart, you understand, right?” 

The wolf was silent in his prison, he gave another go at tearing the net apart, giving his side an open target for a knife to stab him; he growled as it pierced his right side, the men chuckling at the beast’s misfortunes. Lars was planning on running away – the coward. 

“Well, see you, Dr. Spengler,” Lars spoke through the man, the three traipsing off into the woods. 

The beast softly whined, bleeding out from his wounds, hanging eight feet in the air, unable to give Lars what he deserved. Twenty minutes had ticked by since he was trapped, voices were heard in the distance, coming closer. The wolf snarled, struggling in his net cage, ready to tear apart if he’s freed from the net. 

“He can’t have gone far,” Winston scanned the ground, seeing the trail ended here, the tracks disappeared. Almost giving up, he heard snarls above him; Winston pointed his flashlight up at the source, a gasp escaping his lips. “I found him! Egon’s here!”

Ray wasn’t far from Winston, rushing to him, brows drawn together in confusion; upon looking up his features smoothed out, gulping. Peter loped behind him, huffing and panting. 

“Guys, c’mon, we’ve been searching for hours, he’ll find his way home,” Venkman panted, catching his breath. 

“We gotta cut him down,” Ray muttered, turning to Winston. “You got something handy?”

“Yeah, gimme a minute,” Winston followed the rope to find where it was tied to, pulling out a pocket knife with a serrated edge near the handle. “Hang on, Egon.” The rope slipped from his hands before he could soften the landing, the wolf laid still in the netting, lowly growling. 

“Egon … it’s okay,” Ray started towards him, hand out. He got close enough for the wolf to snap his jaws at Stantz, claws trying to swipe at him. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, we’re gonna let you out.”

“Be nice, Scruffy, or it’s the time out kennel,” Peter quipped, his hand by the dart pistol. The black wolf continued its snarling, soon writhing his way out of the net. He pulled himself out, Ray kept his distance from Spengler though Stantz was now backing off; Stantz was staring death in the face, the beast that was his friend started to stalk him, hands frozen unsure of to reach for his thrower or the pistol that hung on his hip. 

Winston had Ray covered from the back of the wolf, the rifle loaded and aimed on Egon; growls to his left sounded, he swiftly turned and shot a dart, a dark brown wolf had been inoculated, shifting back into human form. Peter gave a white wolf a zap from his thrower before firing a dart at it, the werewolf whining and changed. The black wolf took the opportunity to take a fake start of a leap, making Ray trip over into his back. The beast moved, standing over the human, Stantz acting fast using his Kevlar covered arm as blockage as wolf bit down on his arm. Claws sunk into his flesh that wasn’t protected, Ray let out a cry. Three more werewolves came from the shadows, Venkman and Winston were occupied with sending darts at them; Peter spun around and zapped Spengler off of Ray once he fired a round at a gray werewolf. 

“Hey, Scruffy, play nice!” he shouted, regretting his action as the wolf’s gold eyes found him and the beast came right at him. “Shit.” 

He made a run for it, a claw swiped at his leg, tearing his skin and caused Venkman to fall. The wolf grabbed for Peter with his claws, pulling him close and flipped him onto his back; he tore the pack off the human, biting down on a shoulder that was protected by the Kevlar, shaking Peter like a ragdoll. Ray got back up on his feet, witnessing Peter get shook and reached for his thrower, setting to low power. 

The wolf ceased the tossing, tearing at the armor the Ghostbuster wore with tooth and claw, Peter trying to fight back with punches and kicks but was proved pointless against the mass and power the wolf had; the beast felt two zaps of electricity, turning back round to face another human with the same weapon, his lips curled into a snarl, baring his teeth. 

“Easy, Spengler,” Ray had the thrower pointed at the approaching werewolf. The beast was about to strike again when a howl broke out of the glade, the wolf raised his ears and head towards the sound, running to a boulder and leaped on top of it. He scanned the tree line opposite him, Lars strolled out into the opening, the remainder of his pack lined along the trees behind him. One wolf caught the beast’s eye, linking the scent he identified earlier and the dark wolf with the reddish tint in her fur. 

Janine. 

She was positioned by Gustavson’s right, the trademark green haze showed he had her under his control. The black wolf growled, bristling his fur. How dare Lars turn his mate, rage consumed the wolf, he leaped off the boulder, charging for Gustavson. The larger wolf huffed, letting out a roar; five wolves dashed towards the black beast, occupying him while Lars was to take care of the Ghostbusters. Gustavson snuck along the woods, stalking his prey. The three humans had sights on whatever werewolf they could vaccinate, unaware of the large alpha that was making his way to them. 

“Hey, uh, not to, uh, make anyone nervous, but,” Peter started, reloading, zapping a werewolf or two to ward them off, “where’s Big Nasty?” He had seen the wolf had gone from where he stood, making Venkman anxious as he shot two more rounds at a couple of wolves coming at him. 

“Shit,” Winston muttered, “watch your six, guys. He’s probably gonna take us out one by one.”

“Not if we can’t help it,” Ray said from his position by the trees. “If there’s anyone he’s going to come after first, it might be me.” He had breathing room, no wolves had come after him after the last one was vaccinated. Ray took it as a sign, Lars was making his way to him. “I got him right where he needs to be. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s gonna feel it when he steps right over it.” 

The trap fitted to extract Somna was hidden amongst the leaves and debris, Ray had to act quickly while Spengler was distracted by the call earlier to set it up, the foot pedal eight feet away from the trap. Setting the ecto-goggles down over his eyes, he could see Gustavson’s signature pop up and coming closer to him; Ray waited with bated breath for the monster, the toe of his boot delicately positioned over the pedal. 

The black beast had fended off the five wolves, receiving some scratches but overpowered them, thinking if there was some ploy behind Lars sending omegas after him. The reddish wolf snarled, still staying by the tree line, one foot was set forward; the dark wolf saw her across the glade, trotting towards her before teeth sunk into the existing wound from the bear trap. He roared, turning to slash at the offender, more jaws clamped onto his limbs; the creature snarled, tearing his arm from one wolf’s mouth to slash another’s face, bucking the one off his leg. He acted fast, biting into one neck and tore their throat out, mindlessly killing another one that had jumped from behind. 

With his back to her, the red wolf stalked at a trotting pace, taking a leap and sunk her fangs into his shoulder. He growled loudly, falling backwards to loosen her from him; she yelped, scrambling back onto her feet as the black and dark red wolf stared each other down. He lowered his volume, his body language wary while he circled her. 

“C’mon, big boy, I know you wanna take me down,” Ray muttered under his breath, seeing the signature of Gustavson glowing greener in his goggles. 

Lars saw Ray across the way, giving a low snarl; the human stayed positioned, his thrower aimed at the large wolf. Pathetic of him to use it, but he was wary of the knowledge the Ghostbusters had. Lars stopped at the right distance from Ray, his eyes calculating and hungry; Stantz internally grinned, he had Big Nasty right where he wanted him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Janine finally gazed up at the large werewolf staring at her with gold eyes she could only know to be Egon’s ... the man wasn’t there but the beast inside and out found that same comfort whenever he was around her." 
> 
> Werewolf!Janine has a nice brief moment with Spengler before Gustavson comes after them. Spengler defeats Lars ... though one small problem remained after his victory.

Ray kept his eye on the meter, his foot was brought down on the pedal the split second Gustavson was about to make a leap from where he stood. The lid of the trap opened, the light enveloping Lars; the wolf howled in agony, feeling Somna desperately hanging on. Ray second guessed himself seeing Lars gradually tear himself away from the trap; he saw Somna’s form clinging on, quickly recanting the Latin rite to forcefully remove a demon from an unwilling host. 

Lars’ eyes widened in terror hearing the rite, howling as he felt the connections sever painfully, Somna screeching into the night sky. The demon thrashed about, finally torn from its host and sucked into the trap. Ray stamped on the pedal to close the trap, a great sense of accomplishment rushing through him, fist pumping the air.

“We got ‘em!” he shouted, turning to run towards his comrades. “Pete! Winston! We got ‘em!”

Lars had collapsed onto the ground after Somna was exorcised from him, the world spun in his vision; never in all his life had he experienced a feeling, the fire that burned had all been reduced to embers, yet the fury of having Somna extracted had sparked a new flame in him. The alpha gradually rose to his feet, lowly growling as he fallen to the earth again from the queasiness setting over him; he had lost the human he was about to tear into, he looked over to the glade and saw a new opportunity. Fighting the nausea, Gustavson rose, stalking his new prey as he bided his time to strike.

The dark red wolf felt a fog in her mind lift, the green haze gone from her eyes as auburn colors shined; looking down at herself she whined, suddenly taking into account that she was a werewolf. The black beast stopped his circling, noticing the change in her eyes, his growling gradually ceasing. Janine finally gazed up at the large werewolf staring at her with gold eyes she could only know to be Egon’s. There was a familiarity in them despite his current state of not remembering who he is but a beast with a mindless hunger. She took two steps back as the wolf lowered his head and started to approach her, his body language lax. 

He gingerly extended his nose to sniff her, her scent still registering as his mate. He was now close enough to gently lick her nose, Janine shivered at the cold feel of his tongue, she started to relax more, her own advanced sense of smell making itself familiar with Egon’s aroma. Instincts that were foreign to her acted upon licking at some of his wounds, the black wolf giving a few licks under her chin and rolled onto his back, pawing the air between them. She laid down next to him, tenderly cleaning any small wounds she came across. Janine huffed, finding herself staring into Egon’s primal gaze; the man wasn’t there but the beast inside and out found that same comfort whenever he was around her. 

 

Two Ghostbusters stood among unconscious bodies of humans successfully vaccinated with the synthetic wolfsbane, half the stock depleted; they had noticed those freed from Lars scampered off into the woods, leaving three werewolves left to take care of. Peter looked out to the glade, seeing a black and dark red colored wolf snuggle close to each other; upon hearing footsteps approach, he spun on his heels with his thrower primed to fire, only to see Ray come over with a grin on his face. 

“We got Somna! In the trap!” Ray exclaimed, pointing to where the trap still laid. 

“So, what about Big Nasty?” Venkman inquired. 

Ray’s face gradually dropped, remembering they still had Lars to deal with. Winston saw a dark shadow move stealthily along the trees that was heading straight for the two wolves out in the glade. 

“We got company,” he muttered. 

 

Janine rose to her feet, moving to a different spot when she felt a large wind knock her ten feet away from Egon; the black wolf jumped up, waking from a brief nap. Lars had charged, ramming Janine feet from her mate. Gustavson internally grinned as he faced his opponent for the last time. The creature before Lars snarled loudly, fur bristling on its end, making the first move as they tumbled to the ground, scratching and biting at each other. 

Winston moved fast on the dark red wolf, firing a single dart at her from a distance. Janine whined and groaned, her form shifting back into a human figure; Zeddemore quickly took his flight suit off, his blue jeans and black shirt underneath the jumpsuit as he put Janine into it. He glanced up to see Egon had Lars in a chokehold, the slightly larger dark brown wolf slashed at the black creature’s left eye causing the latter to let go. Lars thrashed Spengler’s chest, the black werewolf tackling Gustavson subsequently pummeling his opponent in the face. 

Peter and Ray watched in anticipation while Winston brought Janine over to safety among the trees. The world spun in her vision, she saw through her hazy stare the fight happening in the glade, her mind immediately worrying about Egon; she attempted to rise and go after him, but she felt an arm pull her down. 

“Janine, no, you need to rest,” Zeddemore had her lay against a tree, examining her for any damages from Lars ramming into her. Bruised ribs, possibly one cracked. He looked back at the two spectators. “Guys, can one of you help me with Janine? There’s a first aid kit in Ecto, she needs attention.” 

“I’ll stay,” Ray volunteered, he gestured with his head to Winston, speaking to Peter, “go help Zed with Janine. And take the trap with you.” Venkman acknowledged, giving the gory fight one last glance. He worried for Egon, and for Ray. What if Spengs really does kill one of them? He tried to think nothing further of it, distracting himself by catching up with Winston, helping support Janine on the way back to the hearse. 

Ray watched them go, drawing a deep sigh through his nose, finding a safe spot to keep an eye on Spengler, the body cam on his person capturing the gruesome battle. The two heavy males paused their fight, circling one another under the full moon’s light. Gustavson was showing signs of wearing down, his battle-scarred body had old wounds opened, giving him a somewhat numb feeling. His opponent, as scarred and beaten up as he was, still had stamina and adrenaline keeping him going; the black werewolf snarled, snapping his jaws at Lars. The dark brown wolf lowly growled, wishing Spengler could just roll over and die. He envied the other’s strength, and somewhat youthfulness; Lars has wandered this earth for hundreds of years, he thought he had kept up that endurance Spengler was demonstrating. But this fight has proven to him, the only strength he had was from the symbiotic demonic parasite that was ripped from him moments ago. 

‘You really have proven yourself worthy to be an alpha, Dr. Spengler,’ Lars thought to himself, loudly growling to his opponent. ‘Though this is one fight I will not concede to. I will end you once and for all.’ 

Lars charged, the black werewolf holding his ground before meeting him head on. The two clashed in the middle, they stood on their powerful digitigrade legs, holding each other in a lock; Lars heavily headbutted the black creature, the latter seeing stars. Gustavson tackled Spengler to the ground, his jaw clamping around the dark wolf’s throat. Ray almost pulled out his dart pistol when he witnessed a gruesome death. 

The black wolf snarled, feeling the teeth nearly sink in into his veins; one hand sent claws into the other’s neck, giving a swift kick in the abdomen with a knee. Lars let go, blood gushing from his neck, placing a paw-like hand there to apply pressure. The dark werewolf gradually rose, now it was his turn to throw Gustavson to the ground. He moved in the blink of an eye to push his opponent into the earth and pin Lars down; the black wolf did not hesitate sinking his fangs into Gustavson’s throat and tear it out, blood splattering them both. Ray gulped hard, watching the dark beast continue to eat at the dark brown wolf’s body; the corpse that is Lars Jarl Gustavson was in shambles once the beast was done with it. Stantz had a shiver run down his spine when the creature let out deep howl, the noise reaching as far as Ecto-1. 

Winston and Peter looked to the sound, a cold sweat of fear and anxiety washing over them. Janine perked up at the howl, feeling that same shiver. 

Ray moved himself from his hiding spot, cautiously approaching Egon. He loaded the dart pistol with the extra-strength synthetic wolfsbane, it clicked into place; the beast tore at an abdominal muscle on the corpse when his ears perked at the ‘click’ sounding to his left. Stantz froze, finding himself staring down a wild animal that was once his colleague, fully seeing Egon as what he had ultimately become. His size was definitely larger than before, Stantz was right to say Spengler had finally grown into the stature and height of a fully grown male polar bear if not slightly more than a half foot. 

He saw the wounds decorating the black werewolf’s body; the arrow stubs in Spengler’s left thigh and arm still jutting out, the blood fresh as it continued to run. The lacerations he had endured from the fight deep and gradually stopping the bleeding as the self-regeneration process began which meant … 

Ray saw the first morning light starting to brighten the sky, the illumination of the glade didn’t soften what was coming next. Spengler still had not changed back, Ray’s worst fear about this came true. He looked Egon in the eyes, the black wolf snarling loudly at Ray, snapping his jaws and stalking him. Stantz knitted his brows together in distress and sunk to his knees. This can’t be happening. What if the wolfsbane somehow kills Egon? He almost couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger of the dart pistol.

“Spengler …,” he started to sob, the dark beast pounced on him, jaws open. The first songbirds of the day sang their tune.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spengler is cured, but is in dire need of medical attention. Three little words are spoken between Janine and Egon. 
> 
> The conclusion, epilogue to follow.

Ray pulled the trigger on instinct, dart landing in the crook of Egon’s neck and shoulder; the wolf yelp, his large mass piling on top of Ray. Stantz let out a loud ‘oof’ as he was pinned down by the animal. The werewolf whined, sluggishly getting himself off Ray, his yelps and whimpers increasing in sound; he limped a couple feet away, collapsing to the ground, the human Ghostbuster cautiously crawling over to him. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he tried to lay a hand on the black wolf, attempting to pet him but was met with a low growl. “Spengs, it’s okay, it’s over. I hope you don’t reject the wolfsbane …”

The werewolf’s eyes gradually closed, his breathing shallow before slowing down to a deep slumbering rhythm. Ray watched with keen eyes as he witnessed the werewolf become completely human; Egon was covered in mud and caked blood, the wounds he gathered from battle were still needing attention to. Ray took off his pack, getting out of his flight suit, his gray shirt and tan jeans underneath the suit. He took out his pocket knife, starting to tear strips off the legs and arms. The slumbering man jolted awake, the last remaining shred of any beast in him grasped at Ray’s throat, pinning the latter to the ground. 

“Egon! Egon! It’s me! Ray!” Stantz exclaimed, fighting for air. 

The man on top of him stopped his chokehold, eyes drawing wide on who it was. Egon withdrew his hands, a brown eye staring down at a mismatched frightened gaze. 

“Raymond?” Spengler hoarsely asked, the adrenaline fading from him leaving Egon with pain from his wounds. He grimaced, getting himself off Ray and curled up tight to fight off the intense flairs from the transformation and the gashes. “I feel like I’ve been through a hurricane. Or worse.” 

“Here, Spengs, let me help,” Ray patched what cuts he could, handing Spengler the remains of his suit which the latter used to cover his lower region. “Did you wanna … sit a while?” 

“That would suffice,” Egon limped over to the nearest boulder, careful to rest beside it as to not annoy his injuries on his back. “I definitely notice my pain threshold is not as bearable as it once was.” With one closed eye, and his open eye not the greatest without his glasses, Spengler could see the various wounds he endured. “I gather I’ll have these for the rest of my life if not treated correctly.” 

“We gotta do something about those arrows sticking out from ya,” Ray pointed to the three arrow stubs. 

“I can …,” Egon winced, “I can feel the heads are not the kind to take out easily. It may require surgery.”

“We’ll have Winston look at them. Peter and him have Janine at Ecto-1.”

Egon’s one open eye widened, his gaze whipping up at Ray, immediately regretting the move, crying out before quieting himself. “Is she alright? We must get back to them.” He pulled the dart that once contained the synthetic wolfsbane, tossing it and tried to stand up but fell heavily to the ground. Ray helped him up the second time, offering himself as a leaning post while they trekked the long walk back to the hearse. 

 

“Man, I hope Ray was able to give Egon the cure,” Winston sat in the hearse, the back door open. Janine was up on her feet, pacing alongside Ecto-1, absentmindedly biting and picking at her lip. 

“I wanted to say goodbye to Scruffy,” Peter playfully pouted, snapping a twig into several small bits and tossing them. “I liked that dog.” 

Footsteps approaching caught their attention, Winston leaped from his seat; upon seeing the battered and dirt covered Spengler, he took note of the wounds needing medial attention which meant all of them. Ray gently sat Egon down at the back of the hearse, Zeddemore not saying another word, starting to clean and inspect internal damages. Peter retrieved Spengler’s glasses from the truck, handing them to their owner. Egon graciously took them with one shaking hand, slipping them on. Winston noticed the tremor, and how Spengler looked stone faced and quiet; taking a look at the arrows, he tried to pull the one out of Egon’s upper arm. The response was a stifled cry, the injured man nearly falling over from blood loss and exhaustion on top of the wrack of pain. 

“Well, apart from the ones we can see, you got a few broken ribs, I think one of them is close or almost punctured a lung,” Winston started to diagnose before their injured comrade keeled over and vomited what was left of Lars and coughed up some blood, gasping for air once he felt the said broken rib suddenly puncture his lung. The thick liquid running down Egon’s chin as he slowly sat back up, the man shivering as he looked spaced out, a couple more flecks coughed up. “Pete, drive the truck, take Janine with you. Ray, you’re with me. He needs a hospital now.”

 

“’Scuse me! Man on the brink of death here! He needs help!” Peter called attention to hospital staff as soon as they stepped in. 

Egon was wrapped in a large blanket, Ray and Winston carrying him inside, being met with attendant ands a gurney; they placed their comrade on it, the nurses whisking Egon through the double doors ahead of them. 

“Caucasian, male, 40s, lacerations on the torso and limbs, traumatic pneumothorax, shock has already set in, surgery possibly required to remove …,” the doctor jogging alongside the gurney briefly stopped, spinning on his heels to face the Ghostbusters. “Say, what the hell happened here? He’s got arrows sticking out of him!”

“Long story, pal,” Peter waved him off. “Just fix him, alright?” 

The doctor bit the inside of his cheek, turning back to catch up. Four hours had passed, the guys and Janine made camp in the lounge. Janine and Ray slumped onto each other, dozing off. Peter was still talking to the pretty young nurse at the reception desk, Winston had spaced out, couldn’t shake the images of Spengler attacking them; he would be the first one to look at what the body cam captured that night once they’d be clear and set for New York.

The same doctor from before came through the double doors, finding the Ghostbusters all in one place. He cleared his throat, Ray flinching awake, Janine following suit. Venkman joined his colleagues by the doctor. 

“Well, we got him patched up, we made sure the punctured lung didn’t worsen, so that’s taken care of,” he started, putting his hands on his hips. “The arrow tips were cheeky little devils, but we got them out.” 

“What’d they look like?” Winston asked out of curiosity, drawing up past bow hunting experiences from his youth.

“Well, they look to be the broadhead type, one of them in his thigh nearly shattered his femur, they were in there pretty deep, as those types of tips often cause a considerable amount of damage,” the doctor elaborated. “Must’ve been one of the crazies here in town. Anyway, we’ll get him situated here, then we’ll let you see him.”

Another hour had passed, a nurse had come to gather the guys and Janine to take them to Egon’s room. They walked in on a slumbering man wrapped in gauze and plaster, the steady rise and fall and beep of the monitor telling everyone Egon was alright. Janine came by his right, lightly squeezing his hand. She sniffled back tears, about to go sit in a chair by the window when she felt a gentle pressure on her hand. 

“Stay,” a quiet voice came from the man in the bed. “Please.” 

“Good to have you back, Spengsy,” Ray warmly smiled. 

“Too bad Scruffy isn’t around anymore,” Peter shoved his hands into his pockets, smirking.

“Man, can it with the Scruffy shtick,” Winston rolled his eyes.

Egon cleared his throat best he could. “I’d like have a moment alone with Janine, please.” 

“Don’t tell me it’s over between you two,” Peter feigned horror. “Oh, the humanity! Love is dead!” 

“C’mon, smartass,” Ray nudged him, he and Winston shoving Peter out the door subsequently closing it. 

Janine pulled up a chair by Egon’s bed, placing her hand back in his. There came a moment of silence between them briefly, Janine noticed how tired Spengler looked albeit half his face was covered by gauze. 

“That was … strange … what happened to me last night,” she softly broke the silence. “I felt like I was me, but not completely me. I’m sorry if I did anything to you while that bastard had me in his control. I got banged up a bit from him pretty good.”

“I … must confess you did jump on my back, I could only get you off by falling backwards onto you,” Egon gently squeezed her hand. “But yes, Gustavson assaulted you.”

“Did you … kill him?” The silent response from Egon was all she needed to get for an answer, she switched her hands, her right gently laying on his bicep, her left hand clasping his. “So, you remembered everything?”

“I would have gathered I wouldn’t on account I wasn’t at all there, but yes, I do. Everything. Including where I assaulted Peter and Ray. They are slightly hazy images at this point. I’m sure Ray has footage of some kind.”

Janine took a deep breath through her nose. “How are you feeling? About us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” Spengler crack his good eye open, gently turning his head towards her. “I never said anything negative on the matter of our relationship prior to this point in our lives. And I never will in the future.” He briefly paused, gazing Janine square in the eye. “I love you, Janine.”

“Did I just hear the three magic words?” Peter called from the other side of the door. 

“Can it, Dr. Venkman,” Janine sharply replied, lightly chuckling as she wiped away a tear. She rose, leaning over to plant a kiss on Spengler’s cheek, and whisper into his ear, “and I love you, too.”


	14. Epilogue

“I’ve been experiencing various frequencies in my wave patterns, though they should return back to normal,” Egon noted to Ray as they shared notes and cumulating them for the tome entry. “Soon, I hope. I have to confess, I’ve been having this … weird, for lack of a better word, feeling since I got back.”

“Weird, how?” Ray leaned forward on the table, biting on the side of the pen he had. 

“Like … like something is missing. A strange emptiness. I was experiencing a very lucid dream the night after you cured me. I had changed, only I was myself, not a blood hungry beast. And when I awoke the next morning, it seemed like the bandages had … busted open.” Spengler paused, feeling a twinge in his left bicep from where the arrow was embedded. “That’s all I’ve been dreaming about since then.”

“Extremely lucid dreams,” Ray jotted down on a list of after effects. “What do you remember that night? When you fought Gustavson?”

“How are you and Peter fairing?” Egon asked a response to the question. 

Ray shrugged. “We’ll live. Peter’s been on his toes around you, guess you really … shook him up.” 

Egon tried to hide his smirk at the pun. “I mean how are you really feeling? Physically, mentally.”

“Shoulder’s a bit sore when your claws sort of dug into me, bruises on the arm are going away,” Ray fully answered. “Mentally … that’s a … a discussion for another day.”

“Ray, if you’re having nightmares about me kill-,” he started. 

“Egon, it’s fine. They’re not that bad. Like I said, discussion for another day,” Ray uncharacteristically cut him off. 

Not pressing on the subject any further, Spengler retrieved the memory stick from the body cam, placing in the port on the computer. Ray occasionally glanced over Egon’s shoulder to watch some of the footage, but tended to filing down important notes from unnecessary ones. 

Spengler didn’t notice he was faintly shaking until the footage had cut to black after Ray had vaccinated him, he had been staring at a blank screen for two minutes. His behavior in his other form that night engrossed him in how he personally affected the others, noting his own emotions while watching the playback. Spengler feared the power he had, the ruthlessness and brash nature of what he was; the footage and scars decorating his body now mementos, reminding him of the animal he had become. 

And hopefully never become one again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who's read this. It's been a long journey, I promise not to write another Ghostbusters fic involving werewolves ... I hope. I might do an angsty one shot about how Egon's coping with the lucid dreaming and the scars. I don't know. But ANYWAY, thank you, everyone, again, who has made it this far. Thank you thank you thank you!
> 
> \- Anthony (MahTohSkah)


End file.
